Aang the Brave
by effie's head
Summary: One hundred years ago, even before he was the Avatar, Aang was a legend. But, fame didn't come easily...
1. Chapter 1

Note: Hello, thanks for reading. Since there hasn't been a lot on Air Nomad culture mentioned yet in the series, I'm relying on imagination. However, if you see something that is just completely in disagreement with canon, feel free to point it out. I wanted to try something different, let me know what you think - good or bad!

* * *

**Aang the Brave**

**Chapter One**

_A hundred years ago everyone believed that a bison could fly._

_There was a time when herds of bison gathered regally onto mountainsides – so many of the white-furred beasts that, from a distance, it looked as if snow from the peaks had drifted to the foothills. At times an entire herd took to flight at once, casting hundreds of shadows over the earth like a colossal, fragmented cloud. Wild, majestic, and noble, the bison was the king of the skies. Then, someone had the idea to tame the creatures and, finding himself suddenly uninhibited, the Air Nomad was born._

_The silhouette of a lone bison, and sometimes groups of two or three, became a common sight in the skies of every nation. Over the years they mastered the nuances of flying, and the Nomads wasted no time exploring the world in a way no one had before. Some people compared them to wildflowers. Others compared them to a disease. Whatever the attitude, the undeniable truth was that the Nomads, figuratively speaking, were there to stay._

_No one really knew why the Nomad traveled, where he was going, what he was searching for – so they made up their own stories. Sometimes the Nomad was a romantic hero, searching the world for adventure and love, roaming wherever the wind took him. Sometimes he was a thief, a trickster who would rob you blind as he smiled in your face. Magician or murder; gypsy or jester. The Nomad's roles were as endless as the skies through which he wandered. _

_Those few who bothered to ask quickly found that, as with most legends, the stories were more fantastic than the truth. Of course, there was the occasional young adventure-seeker, roving the world without destination. But quite often the flying caravans were traveling to or from one of the Air Temples. The Nomad was proud of his temple and its benders. Perhaps it was best that few strangers bothered to question him, because once the Nomad began his laudation little could be done to end it._

_In the summer the Nomads began to migrate north. People depended on and looked forward to this annual migration. Farmers considered it a blessing for a bison to fly over their fields – it meant plenty of rain, a bountiful harvest. Expecting mothers scoured the sky for a glimpse of white fur – one bison for a girl, two for a boy. On balmy nights children searched the heavens for bison, ethereal in the moonlight, like slowly shooting stars. The bison were easy to spot, and it was a rare year when anyone was left disappointed, because hardly an Air Nomad in the world would miss the annual sky bison polo tournament.

* * *

_

Aang struggled to concentrate. He shifted so that he was laying on his side, cheek pressed against the rough tile. Knuckles aching, he closed one eye and carefully lined up his shot. Discouraging voices murmured around him, "He should give up. There's no way he can win now. Nobody ever beats Jinju." Aang ignored them. If he could make this shot, he still had a chance. It was his last shot and he would make it count.

"Okay," Aang said, and the murmurings ceased. Suddenly, he could hear the other sounds of the temple more clearly – chattering lemurs outside the wall, hollow thumps from the airball court, his own pulse, and his opponent's wheezing breath. He pushed the distractions aside and focused on his target. The tiny glass marble sat precariously at the edge of the lopsided circle. If only he could knock that one out... He took a deep breath and shot.

"Woo-hoo!" Jinju cheered as Aang's black shooter rolled harmlessly out of the circle. Groaning, Aang watched as the other boy easily knocked his last marble from the chalk boundary and added it to his huge collection. The small crowd they had attracted dispersed, bored, and the two boys were left alone in the middle of the sunny courtyard. Aang stood, picked up his shooter, and dropped it in his pocket.

"Good game, Jinju," he muttered with false enthusiasm. Just because he had lost every one of his hard earned marbles to a kid who smelled like he slept in the bison stables and tucked his shirt into his underwear didn't mean he had to be a bad sport about it.

Jinju looked up from where he was sitting, counting his new prizes and dropping them one by one into a small, worn pouch. "Yep. I almost feel bad takin' all of 'em," he drawled. Suddenly he flashed Aang a wide grin. "Hey, if you want I can help you practice -"

"No!" Aang said, a little too quickly. "I mean, well, I don't know..."

"Yeah, yeah," Jinju's head began bobbing up and down excitedly. "I can teach you my secret. There's a certain way you gotta hold your wrist, just right so that -"

"Maybe another time," Aang interrupted. "I have to pack and get Appa ready... So, I really just don't have time right now." He shrugged, offering an apologetic smile, and turned to leave. "Well, I guess I'll see you later." He took off before Jinju had a chance to start up again, quickly making his way across the courtyard, around a corner, and out of sight.

A warm breeze brushed against his face as he walked. Aang tried his best to ignore his prickling conscience. He knew he was being mean to Jinju, but there was no other way to deal with the boy. Jinju was nice enough, as long as you didn't let him get too close. Most of the time he seemed content just to sit by himself in a corner, counting and recounting his marble collection. Everyone else was content to leave him alone, because the moment someone showed any interest Jinju found a new best friend, and he clung like a second skin. Aang had seen boys driven to near madness after Jinju decided to leech onto them. Thankfully he had never been a victim, and he wasn't about to risk it.

Aang made his way quickly through the temple's open corridors. He passed under high, sunlit arches and leaped up entire stairways, propelling himself with Airbending. As he moved farther from the busy courtyard, the temple grew tranquil. He could hear the trickling of the fountain as he neared the gardens, songlike and soothing. The fragrance of foxgloves and mountain mint embraced him.

"So, where you headin' to?"

"Ah!" Clutching his heart, Aang spun around. He hadn't realized that he was being followed, probably because Jinju was downwind. "Where did you come from?"

"The courtyard, remember? We were shootin' marbles and you lost real bad."

"Yes, I know, it was a -" He shook his head. "Never mind. Forget it." There was an uncomfortable silence. Jinju watched Aang expectantly, and Aang watched a couple of lemurs flying overhead to avoid his gaze. "So, um..."

"You said you were gettin' ready to leave. Well, where you headin' to?" Jinju repeated, then answered his own question. "Bet I know. You're goin' to the tournament, right?" There was glint in his eye, and Aang had a feeling he knew what was coming next.

"That's right. Just me and Appa. By ourselves. Alone."

"So, you got room for one more?" Couldn't he take a hint? Before he could protest Jinju was on his knees before him, hands clasped together with a pitiful look on his face. "Please, please let me come. I never get to go and I've always wanted to. I won't take up any room, you won't even notice I'm there – I promise! I'll even give you all your marbles back. It's a fair trade!"

_You call that a fair trade? A couple of marbles for a trip across the world? _He didn't say that, though he wanted to. "I don't know... I mean, I have a lot of stuff. There probably won't be any room." It was a weak excuse. A giant bison's saddle never ran out of room, and they both knew it. He glanced again at Jinju, who stared back with a pleading and almost painful expression. "I'll see," he added lamely.

From the smile Jinju gave him, Aang knew he was leeched for good.

* * *

At this time of year, it was not unusual for the stables to be nearly empty. Still, Aang found the quiet strange and a little unsettling. All of the temple's bison were on their way to the tournament along with most of its residents. Only Appa remained, which didn't surprise Aang. Technically, Appa belonged to the temple, but it seemed to be some unwritten rule that the bison was solely under Aang's care. He didn't understand why, but he didn't question it. Aang had grown to enjoy Appa's company. 

Jinju, too, had grown on Aang, although in a very different way. Ever since Aang had agreed (or had he?) to take him to the tournament, Jinju had insisted on following the young Airbender around as if they were attached at the hip. At first, and despite himself, Aang had been almost flattered by all the attention. The delight wore off in about an hour.

Nonetheless, Aang was happy for the extra help as he and Jinju loaded their supplies onto Appa's saddle. Getting the giant saddle into place was an impossible task to do alone. As Jinju secured the packs, Aang sat cross legged in front of Appa with a map spread out before him.

"I know we've been through this before, but I just want to make sure everything is perfectly clear." Appa snorted, causing the edges of the map to flutter about. Aang smiled – Appa was always very agreeable.

"We are here," he continued, placing a finger on the map just above the his home, the Southern Air Temple. "We want to be here." He placed another finger on the Northern Air Temple, and held both hands up, separated by about six inches. "See, that's not far at all. As long as we don't get sidetracked, I think we can be there within two weeks. That'll give you enough time to rest before the races." Besides sky bison polo, the main event, the temple also hosted other games, including the annual bison races. Aang would have loved to compete in the actual tournament, but he didn't have a team. He was working on getting one together for next year. In the meantime, he and Appa used every spare moment training for the races, and Aang was confident in their chances.

"Hey, Aang. You think we'll see any of them cannibals I'm always hearin' about? I heard they live on some little island, and they wear loincloths made outta human skin."

"That's great, Jinju," Aang mumbled. Jinju was usually so quiet that Aang figured he was either very shy or very dull. Now he understood just how wrong he had been. Jinju wasn't quiet because he had nothing to say – he was quiet because no one would give him the chance to say it. Aang imagined that he now knew Jinju about as well as Jinju knew himself. Yet, the boy always found one more thing to say.

It would be a very long trip.

Aang returned to examining the map. There were a few islands scattered throughout the waters between the two temples, including the Fire Nation – the halfway point. Most of the other islands were so small that they didn't appear on the map. But, after spending so many summers traveling to the Northern Air Temple, Aang had devised his own route that would allow Appa to land on an island almost every night. He had marked the location of each tiny island on his map with an 'X'. The slightly zigzagging pattern would take a few days longer than a straight path, but Aang believed it was worth it.

"I knew it! This is all your fault!" The angry voice echoed loudly in the empty stables. Aang glanced up at Jinju on the saddle, who was straining his neck over the edge in order to see. Quickly folding the map, Aang jumped up and, with the aid of Airbending, floated effortlessly onto Appa's back to join him. They both peered around the corner as the voices drew closer.

"How is it my fault?"

"How _isn't_ it your fault? If you hadn't been so busy sucking up to the monks -"

"I wasn't sucking up! Someone had to teach the kids those moves. Besides, it's not like I volunteered – they asked for my help."

"And who asked you to volunteer me? I could've been gone two days ago!"

"If anything, you should be thanking me. You really needed the practice."

"I don't need any practice, and I don't need any damn tutor!"

Jinju turned to Aang with wide eyes and mouthed, "It's Yuka!" Aang nodded in agreement. The older boy was known by everyone, if not for his foul mouth, then for his constant trouble making. In his fifteen years at the temple, Yuka had made himself a legend. Aang had heard stories of Yuka's fierce temper and outbursts. However, what stuck in his mind was the older boy's talent for pulling brilliant pranks, a few of which Aang had been lucky enough to witness with his own eyes. The last one he could remember was a few months ago, when Monk Uichi had entered to begin a history lesson, his long gray beard conspicuously missing. No one said a word about it, no one knew exactly how he did it or why, and no one saw Yuka for the rest of that week.

He was Aang's hero.

As Yuka rounded the corner, Aang stood and waved. "Yuka, hi!"

"No! What are you doing?" Jinju hissed, tugging at Aang's raised arm.

Yuka approached the two with a thoughtful frown which quickly transformed into a wide, disarming grin. "Ah, just the man I was looking for. Ping, right?"

"Aang," he corrected. "But, you were close."

"Aang, yeah. That's what I meant." Yuka sauntered to Appa's side. Aang jumped down to meet him, ignoring Jinju's protests. "Listen, Aang," Yuka said, studying the bison pensively. "Thanks to lemur head over here, we've been left with a sort of dilemma." As he spoke he hiked a thumb over his shoulder towards his companion. Li had large, brown eyes that bulged, overwhelming his thin face. He rolled them at Yuka's comment, looking very much like an exasperated lemur.

There was no question in anyone's mind about Li's future. Unlike Yuka, Li was a model pupil; the monks adored him. He woke at dawn, never skipped a meditation, finished each of his classroom assignments, practiced Airbending forms tirelessly, and apparently volunteered his services as a personal tutor. Li would make a great monk someday. He was already working on his beard – a handful of straggly hairs decorated his chin and upper lip, more resembling the leftovers of a messy lunch than facial hair.

"You need a ride to the tournament?" Aang asked.

"I'd hate to burden you..."

"Then don't!" Jinju peeked over the saddle's rim. "There ain't room. We got a lot of stuff, you know?"

"Nonsense!" Aang dismissed Jinju's comment with a wave. "There's always room. Appa and I would be happy to give you a lift."

Yuka's grin grew wider, and he clapped a hand to Aang's shoulder. "Good man. I knew we could count on you."

Aang beamed. Maybe this trip wouldn't be so bad after all.

* * *

Disclaimer: Do I own Avatar? Is the Pope Catholic? (Yay! I own Avatar!) 

By the way, Jinju was... Well, remember that dirty kid in Aang's flashback? The one nobody wanted on their team? Yeah, _that_ Jinju...


	2. Chapter 2

**Aang the Brave**

**Chapter Two**

_When news of Avatar Roku's death spread, the reactions were varied. While the rest of the world mourned, the Air Nomads struggled to keep their excitement respectfully subdued. _

_The Nomads were known for their large families. In fact, it was common for a single family to engage two or three bison when the urge to move came over it. The explanation for the Nomads' natality: every mother's hope was to bear an Airbender. It was an honor and privilege (not to mention status-booster) for the family of a bender to present the child to the Air Temple where it would be trained and raised. Imagine their excitement when these mothers learned of their chance to pay a service not only to the temple, but to the world - even to the very balance of the universe. _

_After Roku died, hundreds of mothers began to see their newborn babies with fresh clarity. Of course, they were still precious little darlings but...Have you ever noticed that curious look in his eyes? It's almost as if he knows something that no one else does...She hardly ever cries, isn't that strange? All my other children wailed like demons...When he was born, I just knew__ that there was something different..._

_Probably the only one who had not seen any blinding flashes of light, or had any prophetic dreams, or heard any voices from the spirit world was a woman to whom having babies was nothing new and who considered the timing of the child's birth as simple coincidence. She already had six children, and not a single bender. She expected nothing special from the seventh except that, hopefully, it would be the last. Her family was temporarily settled near a small town in the southern Earth Kingdom when the child was born – a healthy boy, two arms, two legs, hands and feet attached properly. He was nothing exceptional until three days after he was born, when two of his brothers decided to have a contest – who could make the baby cry first?_

_Imagine their surprise when the infant's agitated cries not only knocked the boys onto their backsides, but nearly blew the family's little tent right out of the ground. "There's one for the temple," his mother said. And later she would brag, "The boy was practically born bending."_

_But, that's another story.  
__

* * *

_

They left at sunrise the next morning. For about an hour they flew North over the Petola mountains, and Aang watched Appa's shadow twist and mutate on the jagged ridges. Low clouds hugged the mountain range below them and the sky above danced with bold yellows and pinks and shy blues. Gradually the tall peaks sank into plateaus and foothills and then to beach, and soon the sea flooded endlessly before them, dazzling orange and too bright to look at.

Aang sat comfortably on Appa's head with the reins looped loosely around his hands. He was sure that Appa knew the way and Aang really wasn't doing much steering, but there was nothing else to do. As soon as they were in the air, Yuka had put his claim on the back of the saddle, sprawled out, and gone back to sleep, all the while muttering about waking up so early. Jinju was quick to follow, much to Aang's pleasure. And, just behind him, Li was busy with his morning meditation. Reluctant to disturb any of his companions, Aang busied himself by daydreaming about the races.

"Who was that kid who came in first last year, Appa? What was his name?"

Appa grunted.

"Yeah, I forget too. Think he'll be back?"

Appa snorted.

"I hope so. We'll be ready for him this time, won't we?"

Appa huffed.

The kid who won last year's race wasn't from the temple. In fact, two out of the top three winners had been non-benders. They probably had more time to train during the year, Aang guessed, since they didn't have to focus on learning Airbending. He didn't mind living at the temple; he couldn't imagine _not_ living there. But sometimes he wished he could spend more time doing things he liked, instead of always being busy with practice or math lessons or kitchen duty. He was always glad when vacation times came around, especially the long break during the summer.

"Hey, Aang." Li's voice drifted down from the saddle, pulling Aang from his thoughts. He twisted around to face the older boy.

"What's up?"

"Let me take the reins for a while, so you can meditate."

"That's okay. I'm so excited I probably couldn't concentrate anyway. I can't wait to get to the Northern Temple. It's gonna be a close game." He grinned, happy that someone was finally awake to talk to. Appa made great company, but he just didn't compare to actual people. "Do you know Juma, from the Eastern Temple? I saw his team practicing earlier this year, and they're _really_ good. I wouldn't be surprised if they made to the championships."

"I wouldn't know," Li said. "I haven't really been keeping track." He sounded bored.

"Well, keep an eye on Juma. I think the Eastern Temple's gonna make a comeback this summer." He sighed. "Neither of our teams stand a chance, though."

Aang groaned, imagining the embarrassing defeat the Southern Air Temple was sure to experience at the tournament. They only had two teams and both of them stunk. Aang had pleaded and begged, but no one would let him play on their team – they said the was too young. It eased his mind to know that soon they'd be regretting that decision. He wasn't being boastful, but Aang knew the game inside and out.

"Well, they didn't have a lot of time to spend practicing. Some commitments are more important than sky bison polo."

Aang glanced at him incredulously. "Like what?"

"Like evaluations. I know for a fact that a lot of those guys are going to be evaluated soon. It takes a lot of effort to prepare. You should know," he added, tapping his forehead, referring to Aang's tattoo.

"I guess you have a point." Yes, Aang remembered the pressure of demonstrating endless Airbending forms and techniques with the eyes of every monk at the temple trained on him. Aang was just grateful that he had passed on the first try. "Still, if they knew they wouldn't have time to practice, they shouldn't have bothered with a team."

"There I agree with you," said Li. For a while, they flew in silence, and Aang settled back into Appa's fur. Actually, he was almost glad that the older boys wouldn't let him play; even his expertise wouldn't be enough to save them from humiliation.

Suddenly, a thought occurred to him, and Aang turned around again. "Aren't you getting ready for evaluations, Li?"

Leaning over the saddle, Li nodded. "Yes, I am."

"You nervous?"

"No, I'm not nervous! Why would I be?" he snapped. He offered no more. Aang held back another sigh. So much for conversation.

_Mornings are always boring_, he reassured himself. _Once Yuka wakes up it'll be more fun._ Aang was sure that besides having some incredible stories to tell, Yuka would be able to hold an intelligent discussion on the intricacies of sky bison polo.

* * *

As it turned out, Yuka was interested in the squash and nothing else. 

It was a little after noon, and Aang had decided to let Appa rest in the water while the four boys ate lunch. The combination of rolling waves and Appa's heaving breaths made the saddle an unsteady table. As he stuffed golden slices of summer squash between the bread that Monk Gyatso had baked especially for the trip, Yuka kicked away wayward star apples and marbles.

"Iths ah ina wiff, Ank," Jinju instructed around a mouthful of sandwich. Politely, Aang tried not to grimace as wet flecks of chewed squash sprinkled the saddle.

"What did you say?"

Jinju swallowed. "I said, it's all in the wrist. Watch." He plucked another marble from his pouch and inspected it for a moment in the sunlight. Red flakes littered the inside of the glass sphere. Aang recognized it immediately; it was one of the marbles he had lost to Jinju. That one came all the way from the Fire Nation – he'd won it from his friend Kuzon.

Jinju tucked the marble expertly above his thumb. His elbow jutted out, and Aang watched his wrist carefully. He gave it a few test flicks – in, out; in, out – before letting the marble fly. It coasted the saddle, swift and straight, and bounced off of Yuka's knee. Yuka glared, but Jinju didn't notice.

Jinju turned to Aang. "You try."

Aang mimicked Jinju's demonstration with the only marble he had left: his trusty black shooter. Elbow up, loosen the wrist – in, out; in, out – and let it fly! It flew – off course, and too high, and would've plummeted into the ocean had Yuka not raised his hand and caught it out of the air. "Practice is over," he said, frowning.

"Good plan," said Li, tossing an apple core over the side of the saddle. "We should start cleaning up. It's time for afternoon meditation."

Jinju let out a loud groan. "Do we _have_ to?"

"Do we have to?" Li echoed. He knotted his brow. "Of course we have to. It's time!" He pointed up, and the three boys gazed skyward. Aang shielded his eyes. The noon sun boasted its brilliance, and the heat would have been intolerable were it not for the steady ocean breeze. It _was_ time for afternoon meditation, but...

"Who cares?" Yuka finished Aang's thought.

"It's not a big deal," Aang added, shrugging.

This time, Li directed his disapproving ogle at Aang. "I'd expect that from him-" he pointed at Yuka, who scowled, "-but you should know better. You're supposed to be setting an example."

"I am?"

"Yes!" He took a long breath. "Being a master Airbender means more than...mastering Airbending. It means more than passing a test. It takes dedication. _Constant_ dedication. And I know meditating may seem like a small thing, but it's very important. Otherwise the monks wouldn't stress-"

"We're not at the temple now. Your rules don't apply. So, enough lecturing, lemur head."

Li rolled his bug-eyes at Yuka. "You would say that. At the rate your going, you'll be retaking evaluations until you're eighty."

"Not a problem. Watch this." Yuka held his hand out. Aang's shooter was balanced on his open palm. He placed his other hand on top, so that the marble was sandwiched between them. Then he pulled his hands apart quickly, leaving the marble suspended in the air and zipping around in tight loops.

"Wow!"

"Awesome!"

"Aren't you brilliant?" muttered Li.

Yuka said, "I can do this, and I can use this." He let the marble fall into his palm and motioned toward the staff by his feet. "That's all the Airbending I need." He tossed the marble back to Aang.

"It's just a dumb trick," Li said, unimpressed.

Aang copied Yuka's movements. Palm flat, sandwich, and lift! The marble made a single loop, then shot wildly forward. Yuka caught it again, just before if fell overboard. He smirked at Li. "Even the prodigy can't do my dumb trick." Aang didn't know whether to take it as a compliment or an insult.

Li shook his head, casting a pitying look at his three companions. "Do what you want," he said, "just don't bother me." With that he crossed his legs, and bowed his head, fists locked together – meditating stance. He wouldn't be budging for at least half an hour.

Yuka turned to Aang. "You want to see that trick again?"

Aang nodded enthusiastically. "Sure!"

"Get this monster of yours in the sky, and I'll show you how it's done."

Aang didn't waste a moment. He hurried to the reins, and with a quick "yip yip!" they were off.


	3. Chapter 3

Note: I edited the introduction to chapter two. Thanks again Lady Fran for catching my mistake! Also, I raised the rating from K+ to T. Nothing really bad, but just to be safe.

* * *

**Aang the Brave**

_**Chapter Three**_

_Water, earth, fire, air – the roots from which the world sprang. Since the beginning of time they have served as the roots of identification. A wanderer in a foreign land greets strangers, "I am of the Water Tribe," or "I am from the Earth Kingdom." He cleaves to the truth those words hold. "I am from somewhere. I have a history. I have a home."_

_But for as long as there have been water, earth, fire, and air, there have been those who pledge their allegiance to no nation. And for as long as there have been mothers with children, there have been stories about them. _

_They were the outcasts, the unfortunate, the castaways of the nations. Hidden among lofty jungle trees, isolated on wave-forged islands, engulfed in desert sands. These people were enigmas. Over the years mystery turns to fear, and fear puts unruly children to bed._

"_Hush, little ones! Go to sleep! Don't you know what happens to children who misbehave?"_

_

* * *

_

By that evening, Aang had mastered Yuka's "dumb trick." By the following evening, he had taught it to Jinju. The next two days passed quietly and very, very slowly. The Northern Air Temple became more distant with each passing hour, and the miles grew longer.

They were on one of the most grueling legs of their journey – two and a half days of continuous flying without even a glimpse of land. Aang loved flying just as much as any other Nomad, and probably more than most. Still, he felt a heavy weariness settle onto his shoulders as he gazed down at the seamless water. He could tell that his companions were feeling it too. Even Appa was irritable.

Aang's stomach dropped as the bison jerked suddenly and began to sink toward the ocean. He pulled hard on the reins just as Appa's feet grazed the waves, and leveled out again. "Sorry, boy. I know you're tired," Aang apologized. He was tired too. They had taken a few hours each night to rest, but Appa didn't sleep well with the waves smacking his sides and salty water smattering his nostrils, and that meant that the four boys on his back did not sleep well either.

His companions had lost all interest in easing the monotony. Aang had tried to coax Yuka into revealing the details of his infamous prank on Monk Uichi, but all he would say was, "The bastard had it coming."

"I don't like that kind of language," Li had warned with a glare.

"I don't give a damn what you like," Yuka retorted. An instant later the two younger boys sat back, amused, as the teenagers volleyed insults – Li with his sleepy sarcasm, and Yuka with his anger boiling up until it spilled over with bubbling oaths that left Aang wide-eyed and Jinju blushing. Yuka stalked to the back of the saddle and sunk into a moody silence. Turning to the remaining two, Li mouthed a satisfied, "I win."

Aang thought, _If you're afraid to say it out loud then you haven't really won,_ and wisely kept the thought to himself.

That had been hours ago, and they had long since given up on idle conversation. Even Jinju had nothing to say.

Appa groaned below him, a rumbling, mournful sound that made Aang's heart ache. He leaned forward and stroked the spot between the bison's eyes, his small hand disappearing in the thick fur. "Hang on, buddy. Just a little while longer." Aang realized that he was reassuring himself too. "We'll be able to land before sunset, I promise."

--

He was able to keep his promise. The sun was just wrapping itself in blankets of red and pink horizon when Aang spotted the far-off and rocky island shape. Euphoria superseded melancholy. It was the kind of feeling, Aang thought, that was so good a person could probably only feel it once or twice in a lifetime. It twisted in his gut and came rebelling from wildly flailing arms. It came screaming and whooping and laughing, and it infected Jinju and Li and Yuka, and they almost forgot how miserable they were supposed to be.

Although eager to run and explore and feast his eyes on the refreshing green of trees, Aang felt that his first responsibility was to Appa. Exhausted, the beast was barely able to drag himself to the beach before he collapsed. The boys quickly fell into routine, first removing their packs from the saddle, then removing the saddle from Appa. Free of his burden, the bison shook mightily, as if to loosen sore muscles. They would let him rest, and put the saddle back on before they went to sleep.

Aang threw himself against Appa's head, arms outstretched in the biggest hug he could manage. "You just rest. I'll find something for you to eat."

Turning to his companions, who were beginning to unpack and set up camp on the beach, Aang announced, "I'm going to find some food before it gets dark."

"Don't worry about it. We still have plenty of food left," said Li from where he sat on the sand, digging through a bag.

"I want to find something for Appa."

Li pointed towards the treeline. "He has plenty of food too." Aang glanced at the tall tropical trees. Their thin, fanlike leaves whispered in the breeze.

"He doesn't really like that kind."

Li furnished a condescending smile. "Forgive me, Aang. I should have expected an animal of his prominence to have a very refined taste." Shrugging, he stood and dusted sand from his clothes. "A leaf's a leaf. But do what you think is right."

Aang held his tongue as he walked away. Let him laugh. Appa deserved only the best.

He had just reached the edge of the forest where delicate shoots of grass began to emerge from the sandy soil when he heard Jinju call, "Wait for me!" He was tempted to dive into the trees and make a run for it, but he stayed put as Jinju plodded through the sand. Together they marched through the dense foliage, shoving aside shrubs and vines with their staffs. With evening approaching, the forest was steadily growing darker, but the two boys continued to push their way from one filmy patch of light to the next. Aang made a quick inspection of the branches of big, heart-shaped leaves, and gathered the ones he thought would interest Appa.

"Boy, am I glad we found this place. For a while there I didn't think we was ever gonna land," Jinju said from behind him.

"Yeah. Somehow it seemed to take longer this time," Aang answered as he struggled with a fibrous branch. The leaves were deep-veined and glossy red underneath. "Hey, help me with this."

"I didn't know we were gonna be flyin' that long," Jinju continued. The two of them held onto the branch and, on Aang's count, pulled hard. "I guess it's 'cause the ocean's so big, and everything in it's so far away from everything else." They stumbled back as the stem snapped. He tucked it under his arm with the rest. "We must be pretty close to the Northern Temple by now," Jinju was saying.

"Not really. Have you looked at the map? We haven't even reached the Fire Nation yet. It'll probably be another three or four days until we get there, and at least a week after that. Watch out for that branch. Don't trip."

"Another _week_?" He sounded disappointed. Birds bickered overhead, and suddenly two blue blurs rocketed from the canopy and twirled away through the branches. "It's still fun, though. Thanks again for lettin' me come."

"No problem." He smiled, surprising himself.

They walked a little farther before Aang spotted an airy space between the trees and pointed. "Look, there's a clearing up ahead." They pushed through the tangle of shrubs, scurried over a fungi covered log, and fell suddenly into the clearing. It was a small, uneven space. Above, Aang could see rippling pink clouds. The ground was littered with winding shoots, vines, and dusty yellow lumps between the vines. A melon patch, Aang realized.

"Great! Appa will love these. There's enough for us too."

"How do you know if they're ripe?" Jinju mused as they wandered into the patch, carefully picking their way through. "Don't you smack 'em and if they sound hollow -" He pressed one ear to a melon and rapped it with his knuckles.

"You're supposed to shake it, and if it swishes -"

"You hafta make sure it smells sweet -"

"Or if it has a spot on the bottom -"

The melons passed every test they could think of. Aang was trying to figure out how many he could carry, along with his staff and the bunch of leaves, when Jinju spoke up.

"I didn't know that melons grew wild." Aang glanced at him. Jinju stood with a melon under each arm, looking around the patch as if it were a riddle to be solved.

"Yeah, sure they do."

"Are you sure?"

"Sure I'm sure," Aang said. "Anything can grow wild if it has enough sunlight, right?" What was so weird about that? He knelt to pick up a melon with his free arm, balancing it awkwardly on his hip. He could only carry one. If they left now they could probably make a few more trips before dark, and maybe Yuka or Li would help them carry more.

--

"Mmm-_mmm!_" Juice dribbled down Aang's chin and he wiped it with his sleeve before it could run down his neck. "I love melon!" There were grunts of agreement from everyone but Li, who was trying to wrestle a spark from the flint. Aang spat the flat melon seeds onto the unmarred tinder. Only one missed. He sent it toward the target with a little puff of air.

"Quit it!" Li snapped. "How am I supposed to start a fire if you keep on blowing it out?"

"Give me that," growled Yuka snatching the flint and steel from Li's hands. Within moments sparks streaked through the darkness, and soon Yuka was nesting a healthy flame.

Li frowned. "How did you do that?"

"Firebending. I'm the Avatar. Didn't you know that?"

"Please," Li scoffed. "If you're the Avatar, then the world's in a lot of trouble."

Aang decided to intervene before another argument could develop. "This is a really good melon. I always say that if you're stranded in the middle of a desert you should have a melon. That way you'll have food _and _water."

Yuka looked at him with a raised eyebrow. "You always say that? I've never heard you say that."

"I say it all the time. Every time I eat a melon, I say it." To emphasize his point, he picked up another slice and took a big bite.

Jinju piped up, "It's true. I've heard him say it." Then he turned to Aang. "You know, if you keep eatin' that you're gonna wet the bed tonight."

Aang rolled his eyes. "Thanks, but I think I can handle it." He grabbed one more slice, a small act of defiance.

The stars and moon were shining so brightly that they could all see eachother well enough without the firelight, but Li was worried about curious night animals. He had a point. Usually Aang wouldn't worry with Appa nearby, but the bison had fallen asleep as soon as they had finished placing the saddle on his back. Judging from the long, steady breaths and the occasional twitching of his tail, Appa was sleeping deeply and dreaming. Aang imagined he was dreaming about flying, although he also imagined that after flying for so long Appa would want to dream about anything besides flying. But he couldn't think of anything else a bison would dream about, besides eating, maybe.

"Where did you get all these, anyway?" Li asked as he picked seeds from the melon flesh. There were still four melons left, and they had been careful to gather a couple of unripe ones to eat later on during their trip.

Aang waved towards the forest. "There were a bunch of them growing back there."

"I think someone planted 'em. I really do. You could kinda see how they were in rows." Jinju looked around at the other three boys, waiting for someone to agree with him.

Aang sighed, and he tried to be patient with Jinju. "That's impossible. Who could've planted them? There's nobody on this island but the four of us. I should know – I've been here before, and I've never seen any people."

"Just because you haven't _seen_ anyone doesn't mean there's no one here." Three pairs of eyes turned to Yuka. Aang felt a tiny twist in his stomach, which he attributed to the melon.

"What do you mean?"

"Maybe you can't see them, but I bet anything they can see you."

Jinju peeked over his shoulder toward the forest, and scooted closer to the fire. "You think they're... _cannibals_?" he whispered.

"You said it, not me," Yuka answered with a wicked grin.

Aang forced a laugh. "Why would cannibals plant melons? They eat people, not fruit."

"Well, why would _normal_ people live on a weird island in the middle of the ocean?" Jinju countered.

"What's so weird about an island being in the middle of the ocean?"

Li groaned dramatically. "Nice going, Yuka. You just had to go and get them scared, didn't you? They're going to be obnoxious all night now."

"I'm not scared! And it's not a 'weird' island. It's just a regular, uninhabited island," Aang said, and at the same time cold fingers trailed his spine, which he attributed to the breeze coming off the water.

"Look, it's just a story I heard," Yuka defended.

"Tell it!" Aang cried, and at the same time Jinju yelped, "Please, don't tell it!"

Aang set his jaw and looked at Yuka confidently. "I want to hear it," he said.

Yuka was silent for a moment as he studied Li's indifferent expression, Aang's bold gaze, and Jinju's trembling lips. "All right." He settled back, and the three other boys unconsciously leaned a little closer to the fire.


	4. Chapter 4

Long (-er than usual) Note: Well, I meant to have this chapter out, like, two weeks ago, but real life decided to make its presence known with an onslaught of family crises and midterms. Anyway, I hope you enjoy a much longer than intended chapter four, which was originally meant to be part of chapter three, which is why there is no introduction. (Sorry!) There will be one for the next chapter though, I promise!

* * *

**Aang the Brave**

_**Chapter Four**_

Yuka closed his eyes and was quiet, sorting his thoughts and gathering his words. A breeze coasted off the ocean and the small fire flared at intervals. Li poked at it with a twig. The tinder shifted, popping and sending sparks flying. Finally Yuka spoke.

"You've probably heard guys telling these bizarre stories before. You know, about people who eat their children and use their skin to make clothes." Jinju threw Aang a knowing glance. "I mean, really deranged stuff."

"He means guys like him. Stories like this one," Li said, tossing the twig into the fire.

"My story's different," Yuka paused for effect, "because it's true."

Li snorted. Yuka shot him a glance, but continued, turning to Aang and Jinju. "You ever been to the Kwita seaport?"

"Yeah. I was just there a few months ago." Aang answered because he doubted that Jinju had traveled far from the Air Temple. Aang, however had been to the Kwita seaport countless times. It was best to go in the late spring when the trading ships came in. If you had enough money, you could get some really weird stuff.

"Kwita seaport...What comes to mind? Big ships, big crowds, fish stands, lots of yelling. Sound familiar?" Aang nodded. "Then you've only seen half of it. The back of the seaport is a completely different world. The slums. It's darker there, gray. The air smells dingy. There's trash on the streets, whores with missing teeth around every corner."

He paused again, as if to let the picture sink in. The fire spat and crackled, and in the distance the tide breathed steadily. Jinju's reproving voice was thunderous in comparison. "What were you doin' in a place like that?"

Before he could answer, Li piped up. "You probably don't want to know. And if you have to ask, then you don't need to know anyway."

"I was looking for a certain bar. Specifically," he glared at Li, as if daring him to interrupt, "the old man outside the bar. The one slouched on a rotting barrel, with a tattered hat hiding his face. A small tin sat between his feet. I dropped three coins in slowly, just as I was instructed. One." He took two stones from the ring encircling the fire and tapped them together sharply. "Two." _Tap_. "Three." _Tap_. "The man turned his to me. He lifted his hat so I could see his face. His eyes were closed and swollen, and covered with dark, crooked lines." As he spoke, Yuka raked his fingers across his own face, from temple to temple. "More than I could count. Old scars."

"He was blind." Aang said.

"No. _Blinded_. When he spoke, his voice was hoarse like he hadn't used it in a while. He said, 'I've been here for years waiting to die. I've got nothing left but the past.' You see, this man tells stories and, for the right price, he'll tell you the story of the last thing he ever saw."

Jinju leaned closer to Aang and whispered in his ear, "This isn't so scary. What's it got to do with cannibals?" Aang shrugged.

"I'll never forget what he told me," Yuka said thoughtfully. "He used to be a sailor, years ago. An explorer. He'd been everywhere. He told me about the month he spent hunting whales with the Water Tribe. He said he once spent two years tracking down rare treasures, and hand delivered them to Fire Lord Sozin. He even claimed to have been to the Air Temple. I didn't believe him at first, but he could describe it to me in perfect detail.

"Finally, his travels led him to a lonely, beautiful island. On the island, there was a woman." Yuka turned his face upwards. "Her skin was as dark as the night, and her eyes were like two stars in the sky. She wore a skirt made of grasses and palm fronds, and she stood barefoot on the sand, waiting for him. But when he approached her, she ran into the forest. He chased her, but she was too quick, and he lost her in the trees.

"He told the rest of the crew about the dark-skinned woman, and he told them that he was going to find her. They warned him not to go. They said it was too dangerous. But he convinced three men to join him, and that night the four of them crept into the forest, guided only by the faint moonlight.

"Time passed as they searched for any sign of the woman or her people. A flicker of firelight. The sound of voices. But there was nothing, and the hours slipped away. The men began to grow tired. They decided to return to the camp. But looking around at the tall, dark trees, twisted branches silhouetted against the sky, they realized that they were lost.

"The man – the sailor – felt that it was his responsibility to get his friends to safety. So, feigning bravery, he began to lead them through the darkness." Aang glanced at the faces around him, glowing like gold in the firelight. They were transfixed. Even Li had shed his usual aloof expression and was attentive. Yuka stared into the fire as if the sleek flames were words.

"Too much time had passed. They were only going deeper and deeper into the jungle. He knew it would be useless to continue wandering, so he decided to stop and wait until morning. But, just as he was about to tell the other men, he paused. Something was wrong." Yuka's voice fell to just above a whisper. "Something was wrong. Standing motionless, he felt the presence of his three friends, and another presence. Something hidden, watching, waiting. They were not alone.

"Slowly, he turned. To the right – nothing but darkness. To the left – nothing. Behind him. There, hovering between the trees were two points of white light. Two eyes, like stars, growing brighter, growing closer, larger. Suddenly, something grabbed him. He fought, but it was too strong, and he was forced to the ground. He felt rough hands grab him and flip him onto his back. Above him, the eyes like stars, gleaming, murderous, so close he could feel the hot breath on his face. He saw the eyes, he saw the glint of the knife. Then he saw nothing. He heard himself scream. He heard the screams of his friends." Yuka's voice trailed off. The fire popped. The ocean sighed.

"Then what?" Aang breathed.

"Then?" Yuka echoed. "Somehow he managed to survive. No trace of the other three. He was half dead when the crew found him. It's hard to find work for a blind sailor, so he ended up on a barrel in front of a bar in Kwita, telling his story to anyone who will listen. He gave me some advice, though, and I'll share it with you." He leaned forward and when he spoke his voice held low tone of warning. "If you're out there at night, and you see those eyes hanging in the darkness, close your eyes and stay still. Close your eyes so you can't see what they do to you. Stay still because running is pointless. It's already too late."

Aang had time to let out the breath he didn't realize he was holding before Li began to scream, pointing wildly towards the trees, "THERE THEY ARE! THERE THEY ARE!"

Aang jumped, and felt the same sensation of wild propulsion he felt when sneezing. Young, unskilled Airbenders were often prone to uncontrollable sneezes. There was nothing funnier than to be walking along peacefully when suddenly you hear "ah-_choo!_" and someone goes flying into the air. Aang was known around the temple for his enormous, fantastic sneezes. He made sneezing into an art form. Sure, he usually faked it, but what was really important was the timing. It was best to plan a sneeze when you were somewhere relatively quiet and with a good sized audience. For instance, the dining hall. That sneeze had nearly launched him through the high domed ceiling with enough time to do two somersaults and three full twirls before landing. On his feet, of course. Dishes and food had flown everywhere, and he had received a lashing to remember, but it was definitely worth it.

Now, when Li screamed "THERE THEY ARE!" Aang felt himself fly almost as high as the dining hall sneeze. At least, he went high enough to vault over the campfire, which was a good thing because if he hadn't jumped over it Jinju, in his own frantic panic, would have pushed him right into the flames. As he floated back to the ground he could see Jinju beneath him sprinting down the beach, long limbs flailing. Aang was just about to follow suit when he heard a sound behind him. Laughter.

He kicked himself mentally. He didn't turn around, but instead watched Jinju who, having reached the surf, had turned back and was now stomping his feet childishly while yelling, "That ain't funny!"

"_Ain't funny!_" his voice bounced off the trees. Li and Yuka laughed even harder at his outburst, and the echoes mixed and bounced back in a weird blend. "_Ain't...Ha!...Funny!...Ha! Ha!...Ain't...!_"

Aang forced himself to smile as he finally turned to face the two teenagers. "Alright, you got us. Nice joke, guys."

"You jumped right over it!"

"What was he gonna do, swim to safety?"

Aang sat down again as Jinju returned, squelching in his wet shoes. Smiling innocently, Yuka said, "I could've sworn I told you to stay still."

"You made up that whole story just to scare us," Aang groaned.

"No. I told you the story's true," Yuka said, suddenly defensive. "You don't believe me, ask Tabari next time you see him. He was with me. Ask him about the blind sailor at Kwita."

"Okay, okay, calm down. If you say it's true, it's true." Li spoke as if Yuka was a tantrum-throwing child, or aggravated animal. He raised his arms above his head, stretching. "I think that's quite enough excitement for one night."

"Yeah," Aang said, eager to change the subject. "It's getting late. We want to get an early start tomorrow."

They began to roll out the sleeping mats in silence, save the cracking fire, the waves, and Yuka's voice periodically insisting, "It's true. Every word."

---

Aang woke twice during the night. The first time was in the middle of a dream. In his dream a woman took him by the hand and led him to the beach. Appa was waiting for them in the water, and they climbed onto the saddle together. Appa's great tail heaved up and down, filling the air with crystal droplets of the ocean. They rose, higher and higher, until the entire island was visible below. When he looked back, Aang saw the other small islands on which they had rested and, far in the distance, the Southern Air Temple sitting proud and elegant. There was the Northern Air Temple, too, waiting for him almost impatiently. And in between, the dark, mountainous shape of the Fire Nation.

The woman came nearer to him as they flew higher. She stood above him with her dark face so close to his that it blocked out the sky. Her face became the sky, and her eyes were sad stars above the crescent moon of her teeth. She began to weep, and her cool tears fell on his face and hands. "Help," she cried. "Help...Help...Damn it, wake up and help!"

He woke to a sky that was dark and devoid of stars. The fire fizzled as it was bombarded by fat raindrops, and Yuka yelled at him to help set up the tent and tarp. They threw their packs inside, and Aang guided Appa to what little protection was offered by the treeline. By the time they had all crawled inside the tent, the fire had dissolved into a wet, smoldering mess.

Aang tried in vain to shift the packs under his head and legs in order to sleep comfortably. The tent was simply not designed to hold four boys and all their gear, and there was a lot of arguing, name calling, and kicking before they finally settled down. Aang was just thankful that he wasn't the one stuck in the middle. The cloth wall of the tent was on one side, which he lifted occasionally for some air. Jinju was on the other side, and he fell asleep rather quickly.

Jinju, Aang learned, was a restless sleeper. Finally growing frustrated with being kicked and poked in the eye, Aang stood carefully and opened the flap, bringing to life a chorus of groans and curses. He jogged into the rain, grabbed one of the melons left by the dead fire, and dove back into the tent. Situating the melon between himself and Jinju he instructed, "Stay on your side!"

---

After tossing and turning for what felt like hours, he finally fell asleep. After what felt like minutes he woke for the second time. Jinju, having breached the melon barrier, shook him roughly by the shoulder whispering, "Ew! Aang, wake up! Gross! Aang, wake up!"

He opened his eyes to the darkness inside the tent and groggily pushed Jinju's hand away. "What? What is it?"

"I told you, I told you! But would you listen to me? No!" Jinju groaned pathetically.

"Told me what?" _It'd better not be something stupid..._

"Not to eat all that melon. I knew you were gonna wet the bed!"

"I didn't wet the bed!" he cried instantly. At the same time he reached downward, patting his legs and the ground beside him, not because he believed there was any truth to Jinju's ridiculous accusation, but out of instinct. He jerked his hand back when he felt something wet. His whole side was soaked! Aang's mind raced for a terrified moment. Was it possible that he could have wet the bed without noticing? No! Pushing the thought aside, he reached blindly above him. Maybe the tent was leaking. His fingers touched the fabric. Completely dry.

Beside him, Jinju was still complaining. "You peed all over the place. What's wrong with you?"

"Maybe you did it and you're trying to blame me!" Aang retorted, annoyed.

"Come on, Aang," he huffed. "I wouldn't wake you up to tell you _I_ wet the bed."

Suddenly, Aang thought of something. He dropped his hand to the melon, still separating himself and Jinju. He ran his hand along the side and, just as he had suspected, felt a long crack in the rind dripping with melon juice. "It's the melon, Jinju."

"That's what I've been telling you!"

"No. I mean it's the melon leaking."

"Oh, sure, blame it on the melon. Look, you don't hafta be embarrassed."

"Will you keep it down, please?" Li's voice rang out of the darkness. "Some of us are trying to sleep."

"Aang wet the bed," Jinju informed, to Aang's horror. Reflexively, he thrust his hand out to cover Jinju's mouth before he could ruin his life any more. His aim was off, and instead of covering his mouth Aang's palm hit the boy's nose hard. The next few minutes were chaos.

"Ow! What was that for?"

"Wetting the bed at your age? Are you feeling okay?" Li asked, sounding concerned.

"It was the melon, not me!"

"The melon hit me? First it peed on me, and now it hit me? Give it up, Aang!"

"Please tell me I'm not hearing this," Yuka joined the menagerie of voices.

"It's not what you think!" Now Yuka had the wrong idea. Just what Aang needed. He was never going to live this down.

"I heard that can be a sign of stress or mental anguish. Aang, are you feeling mentally anguished?"

"Yes, I am feeling anguished. Thanks for noticing."

"I'm feelin' grossed out."

"Shut up, Jinju!"

"All of you shut up." It sounded like Yuka was speaking through his teeth. "Are you just gonna sit in it all night?"

"_It's_ just melon juice," Aang clarified.

Yuka made a low growling sound. Aang imagined he was clutching his head thinking, _Why am I stuck with these morons?_

Li spoke up. "You remember the creek where we got water? Go wash off there."

"Fine," he relinquished. Aang stood as best he could in the cramped space, grabbing his staff and the stupid melon. He stomped outside, vaguely noticing that the rain had stopped and the moon again bathed the beach in milky light.

From within the tent he heard Jinju say, "But that's all the way in the forest."

"_Get out!_" Yuka screamed. An instant later Jinju stumbled out. Aang glared at him. Without a word he shoved the melon close to Jinju's face. Jinju inspected it for a moment.

"Hey, it's cracked."

"Hey, it's cracked!" Aang mocked acidly. He turned, lifted the fruit above his head, and hurled it as far as he could. It exploded on the sand. Yellow melon bits flew into the air, bounced, rolled away. "Hey, it's cracked!" he spat. "Hey, it's cracked!"

"Sorry, Aang."

_Sorry?_ Aang bit his tongue as he stalked into the trees, untucking his wet shirt as he went. Here he was, stripping his way through the jungle in the middle of the night, completely humiliated, and all Jinju could say was _sorry?_

It was bad enough to be accused of something so shameful, so mortifying, but even worse to be accused in front of Li and Yuka. Especially Yuka, who Aang had never imagined would even talk to him, much less want to fly to the tournament with him. Any hopes he had of befriending the best prankster in the history of the Southern Air Temple were dashed. In fact, he would probably be a target now. That was a scary thought. He knew the kind of things Yuka did to people he didn't like, and he had to admit that some of his jokes were cruel. Brilliant, yes, but cruel. He didn't want to be on that list. But even if he could explain the situation to Yuka, the damage had been done.

These thoughts preoccupied Aang's mind as he stumbled through the dark woods. Like the fingers of curious children, twigs and branches scraped at his exposed stomach and tugged at the buttons and straps of the shirt he struggled to pull over his head. "Stupid shirt!" He clawed at the shirt's cape, pulling hard and finally breaking free. "What is the point of this dumb thing?"

"Um, I think it's for Airbending," Jinju offered timidly.

"I know what it's for!" Aang snapped.

The creek gurgled over itself as they approached. Jinju's voice took on a defensive tone. "You're the one who asked. You don't hafta yell."

"Me?" Aang clenched his jaw. He kicked out of his shoes and pants and dropped his staff on the bank. "You're telling _me_ not to yell?" Glaring at Jinju he screamed, "You're the one who needs to keep his big mouth shut!"

Barefoot, in his underwear, entire scrawny body shivering in rage, Aang would be the first to admit that he did not make an intimidating figure. Even worse, Jinju stood a good three or four inches taller than him. So Jinju shouldn't have been scared, but even in the faint light it was obvious that Aang's outburst had made the boy nervous. What really surprised Aang, though, was that he was glad that Jinju was scared. He wanted him to be scared. Aang rarely lost his temper, so maybe Jinju was more stunned than anything else.

Jinju's mouth trembled. He tried to speak, faltered, then managed to squeak out, "Th-they'll hear you."

"It was just a dumb story," Aang growled. "Yuka made it up. Forget it." Gathering his clothes, Aang waded to the opposite shore, taking cautious steps on the pebbly creek bed. He captured Jinju with the fiercest gaze he could muster. "This time, stay on your side."

The creek was really little more than a wide ditch fed by a freshwater spring somewhere on the island. The water barely reached Aang's knees, so he sat cross legged on the cool stones and scooted himself into deeper water until the gentle current swirled around his chest.

He scrubbed his clothes, the repetitive movement calming him the tiniest bit. Jinju splashed quietly behind him. He drew deep breaths, trying to slow his mind and wishing that the night would end. Maybe with the morning light things would return to normal. They'd all wake up refreshed, they'd stretch, eat, pack and be on their way. Li would remind them of morning meditation, and this time Aang wouldn't ignore him. Maybe no one would even remember this night.

Yeah. Sure.

Silence forced him from his wishful thinking. Jinju had stopped splashing. Curious, Aang turned around. He could barely make out Jinju's tense form sitting in the water, neck stretched long like a startled mountain mole.

"What's the matter?"

"I thought I heard somethin'."

Aang rolled his eyes. "Not again. Come on, let's go." He stood and started to move towards the bank, but Jinju halted him with a hiss.

"There it is again!"

Aang looked into the woods, squinting, but his eyes could not pierce the darkness. He listened. Something rustled in the trees. "Hear it?" Jinju asked.

"It's probably -" More movement. Did it sound closer this time? "It's probably just -"

"Aang," Jinju's voice was barely audible. He didn't need to finish, though. Aang had already seen it. Directly in front of him twin orbs, gently glowing, floated in the darkness. And he was frozen to the spot, as if his toes had taken root in the mud and anchored themselves on the stones and sprouted a terrified little boy.

_Close your eyes and stay still._

"Can you reach my staff?" he asked Jinju, shocked at how steady his voice sounded. He heard Jinju stand and creep toward the bank, felt the little waves he created. He clutched the wet clothes to his stomach, sending a rivulet of water snaking around his hips. The other hand reached behind him, searching for the weight of his staff. He stretched his fingers. "Come on, come on," he urged.

_Close your eyes so you can't see what they do to you._

Smooth wood touched his fingers. Jinju's hand clasped his shoulder almost painfully. Aang tried to swallow, but his mouth was dry. He spoke in a whisper. "Listen, Jinju. When I count to three, we're going to run as fast as we can back to camp. Don't stop for anything. Just run." _Some plan, Aang._ "Got it?"

"Okay."

"One..."

_Stay still because it's already too late._

"Two..."

Following Yuka's advice would get them killed for sure. At least by running they had a chance. Unless, of course, they were surrounded. Aang looked only at the starry eyes in front of him, imagining a heaven of eyes behind them, waiting. He crouched low and felt Jinju move with him.

"Three!" The pressure left Aang's shoulder and Jinju splattered madly out of the creek. At the same time Aang lifted his staff, leaned forward and swung. The force of the gale was so great that he teetered back and fell into the water. He scurried to his feet and was running through the trees mere paces behind Jinju, so fast that he barely realized that the eyes had disappeared, barely heard the shush and clatter of his wind exciting leaves and severing boughs.

Aang and Jinju saw only darkness, heard only each other's panting breaths and footfalls, knew only _run run now run faster!_

"Aang," Jinju gasped.

He didn't have the breath for words. "Uh!"

"Where's...the...camp?"

"Uh!" His heart sank. They should have been there by now, especially since they were running so fast. _That's how it happened, they got lost in the jungle._ He tried not to panic for Jinju's sake. There was no way Jinju could handle himself out here if Aang lost it, so he had to take charge. _Best to stop and get my bearings._

"Jinju, wait." They slowed to a stop. "I think we're going the wrong way." He turned in circles, searching for any hint of the beach, but the night curtained thickly. He looked up. Through the leafy branches he could see swaying patches of sky.

"I have an idea. Follow me," He bent his knees then jumped, spinning as he bended himself to the lowest branch. He slid closer to the trunk to make room for Jinju. "Okay, come up."

Jinju craned his neck to look at him, but didn't move. "I can't," he wined.

"What do you mean? Just do what I did."

"I can't do it," he said with a sort of sob. "Leave me here to die, I'll just slow you down anyway." Jinju sounded so pathetic that Aang almost cried for him. He was only ten years old, too young for all this pressure and certainly too young to die by the hands of bloodthirsty cannibals. And so was Jinju.

"I'm not going to let you die. Stay there. Here, hold my clothes." He tied the wet clothes into a bundle and dropped them to Jinju. "I'll be right back." He climbed to the next branch and moved higher, carefully testing his weight as he reached the smaller limbs of the canopy. Finally he was high enough to see above the leaves. He held tightly to the branch beside him and used his staff to balance.

From this angle, the forest didn't seem nearly as immense or menacing. In the moonlight, the treetops looked like shadowed green baubles. The black ocean spread before him too, dark and rippling. They were farther from the beach than they should've been, but much closer than he'd expected. It would be so easy to open his glider and simply fly back to the camp, skimming the canopies. But he couldn't leave Jinju behind. Renewed by the serenity of the scene, he lowered himself back to the ground.

"Well?" Jinju asked anxiously as he jumped from the branch.

"We're close to the beach," he said taking the bundle of clothes. As his eyes readjusted to the darkness of the forest floor, he felt his confidence dampen. He began to walk with Jinju close behind. Aang moved quickly but carefully. Their panicked, mindless fleeing had almost gotten them completely lost. This time he would take his time, even if it meant every snapping twig or stirring leaf sounded threateningly close.

The minutes passed achingly slow, but there was no attack from the trees, no eyes shining hungrily. Soon Aang could hear the ocean in the distance. He smiled. "Come on, Jinju. We're almost there." He began to jog toward the beach, eager to get as far away from that forest as possible. As the trees grew sparser and the ocean louder, his previous fear seemed so silly. Cannibals? Yeah, right. Later he was sure he would laugh at this, as long as Jinju didn't blab everything to Yuka and Li.

Aang breathed a sigh of relief when the beach came into view. The sand, the waves crashing on big rocks, the endless sky. Unfortunately, it wasn't the part of the beach where they had camped, but Aang had never seen anything so beautiful.

He ran towards the oceanfront, the bristly grass a welcome change to his bare feet. Just as he reached the sand he stopped so suddenly that Jinju rammed into him from behind. He began to protest, but quieted abruptly and Aang knew that they were seeing the same thing.

A group of boulders, some of them three times Aang's size, rested in the shallow water, sloped by the constant battering of waves. Beside the formation a figure stood, thigh deep in the water. Her long skirt danced on the surface, pulled by the tide. Her skin was dark. He couldn't make out the features of her face, but her eyes reflected the light of the moon.

She took a slow, water dragged step towards them.

Jinju ran first, forgetting his own warning and hollering at the top of his lungs. Aang paused only a second longer, waiting for feeling to return to his legs before he fled. He propelled himself forward using Airbending to move as fast as possible. He passed Jinju, and kept running. The forest and ocean were whirlwind blurs. His feet barely touched the earth. He hoped Jinju could keep up.

Within moments the campsite was in view. The little tent, the dead fire, Appa by the trees. "Li! Yuka!" he screamed. "Get up! Get up!" He had just passed the tent, still screaming, when Li stepped out looking dazed. Aang skidded to a halt when he reached Appa's sleeping form. He stood on tiptoes to grab Appa's horn and shook as hard as he could while yelling, "Come on, buddy, wake up!"

"Aang, what's going on?" Li called. "Where are your clothes?"

Begrudgingly the lid lifted and the wet eye glared at him with disdain. "Sorry, but this is important," Aang apologized while lifting himself onto Appa's head. He pulled on the reins. "Yip-yip!" Appa lurched forward.

Li's questioning grew frantic. "Hey, what are you doing? Yuka, get out here! Stop!" He leaped forward and wrapped his arms around Appa's horn as if he could halt the beast with his own strength. Appa continued to traipse down the beach with Li dangling from his head. "Where do you think you're going?"

"We have to get off this island now! They're right behind us!"

"What's behind you? Where's that other kid?" As if on cue Jinju careened into the camp, shrieking. He dashed up Appa's tail and joined in Aang's chorus of "Yip-yip! Yip-yip!"

Whether their cries motivated Appa or simply annoyed him Aang didn't know. But he gave in to their desperate request. His tail pumped, sending a shower of sand into the air; the unmistakable sign of a bison preparing to soar. Li released the horn and sprung to the saddle, his bending graceful as ever despite his confusion and rising panic. "Yuka, hurry up!" Aang had nearly forgotten about the other teenager, who had yet to join them. Just as Yuka's sour face emerged from the tent, Appa lifted from the ground.

"Come on! Hurry!" they urged, because once a bison began to take off he wasn't coming down until he wanted to. Yuka's head disappeared and, a moment later, he came out again holding his staff. The glider snapped open with a flash of orange. He made a running start, tearing down the beach and gaining speed with every step. He reached the water and leaped; his feet skimmed the surface before he gained balance.

Appa was moving fast, but rising slowly. With a burst of speed, Yuka rocketed into the air, a tangerine smear on the black night. He flew high, circled above the bison once and dropped, stumbling as he landed on the moving saddle.

As if the added weight was to great for him, Appa moaned and Aang's stomach bounced to his throat as the bison's ascent petered out. They hurtled toward the waves. Aang pulled uselessly on the reins, but Appa was exhausted. They were plummeting from the sky and there was nothing he could do about it. "Hold on!" He clutched the reins, bracing himself against Appa's head.

Appa belly flopped, his six thick legs outstretched. Shocks of cold water barraged them and Aang held his breath, preparing to go under. The water was up to his thighs before Appa's head surfaced. With a snort and flared nostrils, the bison blew forth a spray of seawater that fell with a sound of rain.

Behind him, the saddle was a madhouse. Jinju's breath came in short, strained spurts. Li tried to calm him while Yuka angrily demanded an explanation.

Shivering, Aang only heard a voice chanting, over and over, "It's okay. We're safe. We're okay." It was his voice.

* * *

P.s. Did you know that there's a scientific name for bed wetting? It's _enuresis._

P.p.s. I'm thinking I could really use a beta-reader for this story. I'd be happy to beta-read for you, too. If anyone's interested, have your people contact my people. We'll do lunch.

P.p.p.s. I found a fun way to edit your stories in a book called _The Pocket Muse._ If you want, you can check it out on my profile page.

Ciao, and thanks for reading.


	5. Chapter 5

**Aang the Brave**

_**Chapter Five**_

_One hundred years ago many agreed that the Air Nomads were some of the kindest people in the world. Their gentle souls shone in their eyes and their smiles. In fact, the fable of the gracious nomad was very popular at the time, and almost every child could recite it._

_The young nomad in the story was a poor man, as was true of most nomads. His only possession was the long white robe he wore. Although he had little, he was happy and content with his life. This, too, was true of most nomads. _

_One day, as he traveled through the mountains the nomad heard a deep, low moaning. The sorrow of the sound sunk into his bones. The moan echoed, tumbled off the mountainside, and rolled in the wind. Something in the mountains was suffering. He had to find the source._

_He climbed for a very long time, and finally reached the top of the mountain. Lying in the powdery snow was a bison. It groaned in pain. Its white fur was stained with red._

_Without a second thought, the nomad pulled off his robe and used it to wrap the bison's wound. "You silly man," the bison said in his slow, rumbling voice. "You will freeze to death!" But the nomad was persistent. His white robe was stained crimson but, as time passed, the falling snow paled it to the color of rust. The wind howled and bit at the nomad, but he stayed with the bison, day and night, until its wound healed. _

_When it was strong enough, the bison stood and stretched, feeling better than ever. It turned to the nomad. "I must thank you," it said. "What can I give you in exchange for your kindness?"_

_Despite his coldness and hunger the nomad laughed. "My friend, I ask for nothing. My payment is the knowledge that you are well." _

"_I must repay you, but I have only one thing to give," the bison insisted, shaking its giant body from its woolly head to its long, flat tail. And he said to the nomad, "I will teach you to fly."_

_The nomads have been flying ever since, and they've been gracious ever since. Kindness, gentleness, acceptance—these were the codes they lived by. _

_They had no other option, because one thing the great beast failed to mention was that a bison's saddle could be a very cramped space._

_--_

Jinju's entire body heaved with each wheezing breath. Li stroked his back in an awkward attempt to soothe him. Awakening from his stupor, Aang climbed over the saddle's rim. "Is he okay?" he asked, crawling towards Jinju and Li. Before he reached them he was intercepted by Yuka's feet. He loomed over Aang, his face eerily shadowed.

"You mind explaining what the hell's going on?" His voice was soft, deceptively calm, but his words were clipped.

"You were right, Yuka. There really were people on that island," Aang said.

Yuka lifted his fists to his temples, as if he were trying to squeeze out a headache. Aang was surprised. He had expected a satisfied smirk or a smug "See, what'd I tell you?" Instead, Yuka muttered, "You've got to be kidding me."

"What exactly did you see?" Li asked from Jinju's side.

"The eyes. When we were in the creek we could see them in the trees. It was just like he said." Aang couldn't suppress the shudder that ran through his body.

"Foxes have eyes," Li said after a moment. "Bats have eyes. Monkeys have eyes. You saw an animal out there and let your imagination get carried away. It was nothing more than that."

"But what about that lady?" Jinju whispered. He had settled down enough to take deep, rhythmic breaths while Li's hand held a steady, waving tempo.

"We saw her, Yuka. She was standing on the beach. Just like you said," Aang exclaimed. Surely Yuka would believe both of them. It was his story after all, the one he _insisted_ was true.

Yuka sat and put his head in his hands. Aang almost thought he would cry. After a moment, he looked up, dragging his hands along his face until they met at his chin. "So, you're saying," he began thoughtfully, "that you woke me up in the middle of the night—for the second time tonight—when I haven't had a decent night's sleep in days, and made me chase a bison," his voice took on a slightly crazed tone, "because you were afraid of a lady standing on the beach? Is this what you're saying?"

He made it sound so trivial. This was, quite possibly, the most terrifying experience of Aang's life, and Yuka managed to make it sound like..._kid's stuff!_

"I know what I-" he began, but was interrupted by Li.

"Why don't we go back now? Not to stay," he appended when Aang and Jinju began to protest. "But we left all our stuff there."

He was right. In his panic Aang had forgotten all about the tent with their gear inside. All they had was what they had been carrying. Aang glanced at Jinju who shook his head emphatically. He shrugged an apology. They really didn't have a choice.

"We'll go back. But just to get our stuff. We're not staying."

"We'll be gone before you can say 'cannibalism,' I promise," Li said and as an afterthought added, "But first do everyone a favor, and put on some clothes."

--

"Please, please, let us find the island," Aang whispered to any spirits who might have been listening. "I promise I'll never skip another meditation, and I'll stop hiding animals in my room, and I'll never _ever_ touch another melon for as long as I live."

He had good intentions. He meant to go back to the island, he really did. But there were two intrinsic flaws with that plan.

First of all, he had no idea where they were. On all sides they were surrounded by water. By looking at the stars he could tell that they were now heading southwest. But which way had they flown off the island? Which side of the island had they been camped on? Had they turned around after their crash landing? He hadn't been paying attention, being more worried about having his eyes gouged out by cannibals. He didn't mention any of this to his companions, but tried to steer Appa in what he hoped was the right direction.

Secondly, they weren't moving. He had been struggling to stay awake by picking splinters from the soles of his feet when the sound of Appa's throaty breathing had alerted him. He leaned over to find the bison's eye closed, the water bubbling with every exhale. The perpetual waves gave the illusion of steady movement, but Aang realized that they were not, in fact, swimming or making any progress. Appa was drifting aimlessly, fast asleep. He tried waking Appa by shouting in his ear, but he couldn't shout for real because then the boys behind him would know that something was wrong, so he sort of whisper-shouted, and that didn't work at all. He even tried stomping Appa's head with his feet. Appa only grunted irritably, once shaking his head so hard that Aang almost toppled right off. Finally, Aang relented. If a ten-ton bison didn't want to listen, then what was a sixty-pound kid going to do about it?

He didn't mention this either, but it didn't take them long to figure it out.

"You don't know how to get back, do you?" He tensed when he heard Yuka's voice behind him.

Aang's stomach dropped at the thought of telling Yuka the truth. He was already on Yuka's bad side—not a place he wanted to be. He stuttered excuses. "It's so dark, and Appa's exhausted, and..." He trailed off because the fact was that they were lost at sea and it was his fault.

Aang could see Yuka's fingers grip the saddle as he glared down at him. "I swear," he growled, "if I wasn't dead tired right now, I'd beat your-"

"Then go to sleep, because you're not helping anyone by making stupid threats," Li interjected from further back. Aang couldn't see Li from his seat on Appa's head, but he saw Yuka's face twist at the comment.

"I don't see you doing anything, lemur head." He turned and disappeared again, but Aang could still hear his angry voice. "You're supposed to be so brilliant, why don't you get off your ass and do something?" Li said something that Aang couldn't hear, then suddenly he was climbing over the front of the saddle, and Aang moved over to make room.

Li surveyed their surroundings—the sea, the sky. He leaned over the side of Appa's head to study the closed eye, and Aang held onto the back of his shirt, afraid he would fall. Finally, he turned to Aang. "Why don't you get some sleep? There's not much we can do now, but maybe things will look better in the morning," he said, tugging at the sparse hair on his chin. He didn't sound very confident, and he didn't even attempt to fake a reassuring smile.

"No, I'll stay," Aang said and Li just shrugged. He knew he was being stubborn, but he didn't want to go back to the saddle with Yuka. He was almost as scary as the cannibals now.

He tried to stay awake with Li, but the rocking of the waves was so calming, the sound of them was almost like a lullaby, and his eyelids were so heavy, and he was so, so sleepy.

When he finally drifted into fitful sleep, he dreamed of a banquet where his eyes and fingers were passed around on a platter, and his bones were boiled to make Aang stock for soup.

--

Instead of bringing clarity and insight, the morning light only illuminated the hopelessness of their situation. Aang woke up very early that morning, even before the sun rose. The world around him was bathed in dull, gray light with no source. He looked about groggily, wincing at the cramp in his neck.

Only when he realized that his head was resting on Li's shoulder did he awaken completely. He inched away, careful not to wake the other boy. He was sure the day would bring enough smart comments from Yuka; he didn't need Li teasing him, too.

Normally, Li would be awake right now, meditating. But this wasn't a normal morning, and Li was out cold. Appa's reins were still in his hand, his head was thrown back, and his mouth was wide open. Very ungentlemanly, in Aang's opinion. He wondered if he should try to push Li's mouth closed since sleeping like that was sure to make his throat very dry, and they didn't have any water to drink.

_No water._ The two words dropped to his stomach like rocks. They didn't have any food either. Maybe, if things got really dire, they could go a few days without eating. But without water, people could die...

_No, don't overreact,_ he told himself. _That's what got you here in the first place. What's done is done. Now focus on finding a solution. _That meant getting Appa to move.

The sun had begun to rise as a pinkish glob behind him. They were facing west. The very least he could do was turn Appa in the right direction. Laying on his stomach, he leaned over Appa's head. "Are you awake, boy?" he whispered. Appa's eye opened and rolled lazily toward him. "Good. We need to turn around, okay?"

Gently, Aang removed the reins from Li's limp hand. He pulled on them, adding the slightest pressure with his foot. Slowly, Appa revolved in the water until Aang could feel the sun warming the right side of his face. Not a bad start. The slightest twinge of hope fluttered in his chest. Maybe things really weren't as bad as they looked. "Looks like a great day for flying. What do you say, buddy?"

A short snort from Appa, almost a laugh. So much for that. But he wasn't quite ready to give up.

"Sure is going to be a close race this year," he yawned nonchalantly, leaning back. "Just close your eyes and imagine it, Appa. Are they closed?" He checked; they were. Aang closed his eyes, too. "It's the final lap, only the fastest fliers. We're all neck-and-neck, and everyone's flying in one big group. Suddenly a lone bison pulls out in front. It's you, Appa! We're speeding away from everyone. Then we dive into the valley, and we can hardly see anything because of the mist." Even as he spoke Aang could smell the valley, damp, cold, and deep.

"Then, out of nowhere, something darts beneath us. Did you see it? It's the kid who beat us last year. That's the same trick he used on us before." Aang could see the boy in his mind's eye, huddled low over his bison's head, squinting against the wind. His hair was slicked to his head and the bison's fur lay flat to its body, streamlined. The boy looked up at Aang and winked before dodging into the valley. Some nerve!

"Appa, are you going to let him get away with it again?" A grunt which Aang took to mean "no." "Then come on and YIP-YIP!" Aang bellowed, snapping the reins fiercely. He laughed triumphantly as Appa's head reared and the water churned around his legs. They were going to fly! They were going to—

With something like a chuckle, Appa settled back into the water. Aang scowled, crossing his arms indignantly. "You think you're pretty funny, don't you?"

He glanced at Li, who had somehow dozed through the entire thing. Now his chin rested on his chest, and he slurped noisy snores with every inhale. In, out...slurp, sigh, and it was to this rhythm that a dejected Aang watched the sunrise.

--

Aang could tell that the day was going to be tough when Yuka woke up without a single mean word for him. He didn't say anything at all, which was worse because it meant that he could burst at any moment, so Aang was on edge.

Li, too, had barely uttered a word. Aang knew he was upset because he skipped morning meditation. Aang had watched him trying, but Li had fidgeted and shifted so much that finally he just gave up. He must have been depressed because he left his staff on the island with the rest of their stuff. Aang felt really awful about that. It was terrible for an Airbender to lose his staff, like walking around naked but a little less embarrassing. Not to mention how much trouble you'd get in once the monks found out, especially if you were old enough to have a custom made staff like Li's, instead of somebody else's old one. Aang told Li that he would take the blame, and Jinju had even offered his own staff, saying he wasn't really good with it anyway. But Li just muttered, "Too small for me," which was true, and then he hunched up and pulled the back of his orange cape over his head like a tent, and didn't say anything else.

And then there was Jinju who didn't get that Aang was trying to ignore him and kept trying to talk to him. Finally Aang abandoned the saddle and stayed on Appa's head where he could be alone. He was too mad at Jinju to talk to him, and with good reason. He had come to the conclusion that it was entirely Jinju's fault that they were stranded.

First of all, it was Jinju who had stolen Aang's marbles, just so he could bribe him with them. It was Jinju who brought up the stupid thing about the melons. It was Jinju who couldn't even stay still in his sleep. It was Jinju who completely humiliated him and made him lose his temper. It was Jinju who spooked him in the forest, who could hardly even Airbend, who smelled weird, who pulled his pants up to his armpits, who didn't even try to stop people from making fun of him, who just sat there and let them, who probably deserved to be teased anyway.

And now, it was Jinju who was making a sound that reminded Aang of baby lemurs mewing for their mother.

Aang peeked over the saddle. Jinju was crying. He had his head in his arms, trying to hide his face, but he was making so much noise. Yuka had his back turned. Li didn't move.

"What is it, Jinju?" Aang asked, but what he really wanted to say was "Shut up!" There was no answer. "Jinju!" He kept whimpering.

Aang jumped into the saddle. He crouched next to Jinju and tried to make his voice sound kinder when he saw the boy's shoulders trembling with every sob. "What's wrong? What are you crying about?"

Jinju sniffed loudly, and he didn't look up as he answered softly, "I left all my marbles back there. Every one of them's still on that island."

Aang was dumbfounded. He could not believe what he was hearing. His fists and jaw clenched, his eyes shot daggers at the top of Jinju's head. Aang opened his mouth, but the words that came out were unexpected and wrong and completely irrational. "How could you?" he yelled. "Those were my marbles, too—you were supposed to give them back! That's the only reason I brought you! And you lost them! Why can't you do anything right?" He stood and glared down at Jinju, like Yuka had done to him last night. He hoped he looked just as intimidating.

Jinju lifted his face, wiping his eyes and nose with his sleeve. "Please don't be mad, Aang," he pleaded.

"I should've never let you come. I knew you'd ruin everything. I hate you!" Jinju jerked as if he had been kicked. His mouth moved, but no words came out. "I hate you!" Aang repeated, hating the sound of his voice, not even recognizing it.

"You are pathetic." It was Yuka. Aang swallowed as the teenager stood and moved toward him. "Just when I'm thinking you're not a complete idiot, you prove me wrong." He swept his arms wide. "We're stuck in the middle of the ocean with no food, no water, no map, no compass, no idea where the hell we are because your stupid pile of lard-"

"Don't talk about Appa like that!" Aang interrupted, but Yuka ignored him.

"-and you're arguing about marbles! What the hell is wrong with you?" He pushed Aang hard. Aang stumbled backward but didn't fall. He glanced at Li, waiting for the sarcastic quip to stop Yuka, but he was still hunched in his human tent. Jinju wouldn't even look at him. Nobody was going to help him.

Aang took a deep breath. "All we can do now is try to make the best out of it," he said. "I said I was sorry. What more do you want?"

"I want you do something about it. This is your fault." He pushed him again.

"Stop it!"

"Why should I?" Yuka smirked dangerously. "You're just gonna let me push you around? You're not even gonna try to defend yourself?" Another shove.

"I don't want to fight you!"

"Coward." Shove. "Wimp." Shove. "Girl." Shove. "Do something."

His fists were shaking by his side. His heart raced. "Don't touch me!"

Yuka stopped. He studied Aang. He said, "I don't need to," and Aang saw his arms sweep to his side, saw them trace wide circles in the air, knew what was going to happen, but couldn't react.

Aang flew back, hurled and spun across the saddle by the invisible force. He collided with the edge of the saddle, crushing his stomach and knocking the wind out of him. He somersaulted over the side. The world whizzed and tossed before his eyes, blue sky, his own feet, Appa's horn—way too close—and then the water. He had time to take one shallow breath before he plunged in.

The cold water shocked him, and he kicked furiously to the shimmering surface. He reached the air, and gasping, clung to Appa's fur. His mind was a whirlpool of disjointed thoughts and sounds—people yelling, an animal moaning gravely, endless waves. He felt hands grabbing at his arms and shirt, tried to climb, couldn't. He let Li and Jinju fish him out.

They dragged him onto the saddle, and he collapsed holding his stomach and biting his lip. He looked up just in time to see Yuka disappear over the other side of the saddle, getting as far away from them as he could—Appa's tail. _I'm not a coward,_ Aang thought after him, unable to speak. _I'm not a coward._ But he hoped that Appa would flip Yuka into the ocean, almost hoped he would drown.


	6. Chapter 6

**Aang the Brave**

_**Chapter Six**_

_They used to call pirates "the nomads of the sea." Of course, there are still pirates, and they're ruthless and cunning. But they don't hold a candle to the pirates of years past._

_These were the pirates that created legends. Three-eyed Captain Ramori and his untouchable crew who terrorized the arctic waters. Tricky Tikki who, at fourteen, swindled some of the richest men in the world. The fearsome thirty day battle between Madman Makazu and Dirty Captain Yan. The month of red waters. _

_The only people who could be said to feel something like affection for these wretches of mankind were the Air Nomads. Perhaps they felt a sort of camaraderie with these pelagic wanderers. And every pirate knew that it was the best kind of luck to spot a flying bison while at sea. _

_Yes, there was something those pirates had that is lacking in today's pirates. Something forgotten. It's certainly not their conviction or their unforgiving viciousness. It's not their shrewd business savvy or their barbaric vulgarity. _

_Maybe it's luck.

* * *

_

"Ow, ow, ow," was the mantra Aang spoke under his breath, and _I'm not a coward,_ was the mantra that buried itself in his mind until he fell asleep. When he woke up the side of his face that lay against the saddle was sweaty, and the other side was tender and sunburned. He was sure he had slept for hours and it must have been nightfall or close to it. He was glad to have slept through that awful day, lucky that he wouldn't have to deal with Yuka or Jinju until the next morning. He didn't know how much more mental anguish he could take. He opened his eyes.

It wasn't even noon.

He would've cried, but then he'd just prove Yuka right and, besides, salty tears would make the sunburn sting. His stomach hurt. There was the painful knot from having the wind knocked out him, and the deeper ache of hunger. Instead of crying, he moaned in self pity.

"Oh, you're awake." Jinju sat across the saddle from him, cross-legged. To Aang's surprise, there was no malice in his voice. "How d'ya feel?" He sounded sincere. Was it a trick? Would Jinju pounce on him when he least expected it?

He sat up and looked around. Thankfully there was no sign of Yuka. He and Jinju were alone on the saddle.

"I'm okay," he answered cautiously. "Where's Li?"

Jinju pointed towards Appa's head. "Up there. He said not to bother him unless we're dying." He raised an eyebrow at Aang. "You gonna die?"

"Not yet." _He should be angry. He should be yelling at me or giving me the silent treatment. He has every right to._ They were quiet for a while, and Aang looked around at the endless, glistening water. The sea was calm. The sun was merciless. He poked his cheek gingerly.

"Yuka's still back there," Jinju said, motioning to Appa's tail. "He shouldn't have done that to you. It was wrong." He paused, then added, "He's crazy."

"He's a jerk." They were quiet for a moment. Aang wondered if Yuka really had fallen into the ocean. He almost wanted to take a peek just to check, but then reminded himself that he didn't care about Yuka one way or another. Although they would be in a lot of trouble if they let him drown. Then again, the monks would probably be glad to be rid of him. What an awful thought! Aang wondered if Yuka knew how mean he was.

Jinju broke the silence. "Are you sure you're all right?" It was an innocent question, but it made Aang uneasy.

"Why are you being nice to me?" he asked suddenly. He couldn't understand. Aang was sick with regret over the way he treated Jinju, but Jinju seemed to have forgotten the entire incident.

"Huh?"

"After what I said to you...You don't have to be nice to me. Aren't you mad?"

"Oh," Jinju mumbled looking at his hands, and Aang wished he hadn't said anything.

"I didn't mean it. I don't hate you."

"Yeah." He rested his elbows on his knees and cradled his head in his hands. "I'm not mad at you. Just kinda sad."

"Because you lost your marbles?" Aang winced at the unintentional pun. "I mean, because you left them behind?" Jinju sighed in response. "I'll help you get some more," Aang offered.

He shook his head. "That's not it. You don't understand." His face scrunched up as he struggled to put his thoughts into words. "I mean, everybody likes you."

"Yuka doesn't like me." Jinju didn't laugh at Aang's attempted joke.

"Everybody always wants to play with you," Jinju continued. "And you get to be team captain, but I have to be the scorekeeper."

"I thought you liked keeping score," Aang said. "Because you like counting, right?"

"Yeah, but not _all_ the time. Sometimes I wanna play." He tilted his face to the saddle, with a long sniff. "You have so many friends and I don't have any. And now I don't have _anything._"

"I'm sorry. I didn't know." That was mostly true. Before this trip, and even during most of it, Aang had been just as guilty of ignoring Jinju as anyone else. He wasn't one of the people who made fun of him, but he didn't defend him and sometimes he laughed, too. Was that just as bad?

But Jinju said he wasn't mad at him, and Aang believed that. He thought about all the times at the Air Temple when Jinju was being teased. He never raised his voice, never raised a finger in defense. Maybe what Aang had perceived as cowardice, as feeble acquiescence, was something else. Jinju, he suddenly realized, floundering so far behind, had mastered everything about Airbending but the moves. _Kindness, gentleness, acceptance._ Jinju had perfected what Aang, Yuka, and even Li, had yet to learn.

"Next time we play Airball," Aang said, "I'll keep score, and you can play."

Jinju looked up, skeptical. "Really? You mean it?"

"Sure do." Although he might have a tough time explaining it to the rest of the team, he was determined to keep his promise.

With a sheepish grin Jinju said, "First you'll hafta teach me how to play."

So he explained to Jinju the basics of Airball as best he could, and in this way passed the rest of the morning.

--

"I'm so hungry I could eat dirt."

"I'm so hungry I could eat a month-old egg custard tart."

"I'm so hungry I could eat _five _month-old egg custard tarts."

"Gross. I could eat raw eggs."

"I'm so hungry I could eat...meat!"

"Yuck!" Aang rolled to his stomach and pulled himself to the edge of the saddle. Jinju followed. He pointed to the water. "I'm so hungry I could catch a fish right now and bite into it."

Maybe they were exaggerating. It wasn't like they had never fasted before. But fasting was something you did on purpose and for a reason; starving wasn't. Besides, there wasn't anything else to occupy them.

"I'm so hungry I could eat," Aang paused for ominous effect, "a human being."

"Me too," said Jinju. He smiled evilly. "Let's eat Yuka first."

Aang shook his head. "Bet he tastes worst than month-old egg custard tarts."

Propping his elbow on the saddle, Jinju mused, "Yuka said there're sharks in this ocean that are so big they can eat a bison whole. You think that's true?" He cast a worried glance at Aang.

"I doubt it. You can't trust anything Yuka says," Aang replied, although he thought it might be true. He'd ridden elephant koi that could've swallowed a bison whole. Who knew how big sharks might get? Better not to scare Jinju, though.

"But what if there are?" Jinju insisted. "I really, _really_ don't wanna spend another night out here."

"Well, we could be gone by now if _someone_ didn't have an attitude," Aang answered, just loud enough so that Appa was sure to hear. A moody murmur shook the saddle.

"Why won't he just fly already?" Jinju whined.

"He's tired and hungry just like us. Flying for miles and miles is hard work."

"But in the wild don't they migrate?" Jinju reasoned, sitting up. "So shouldn't he be used to it?"

"Well, Appa's not a wild bison. And besides, bison don't migrate—you're thinking of birds." Aang sat up too. "Bison usually stay near the mountains. They don't migrate naturally because then they'd have to cross the ocean, and there'd be no place for them to land. Of course, they're capable of flying long distances, but it just isn't likely if they're over water. Unless it's mating season, in which case the young males-"

"Okay, okay. They don't migrate, I get it," Jinju interrupted, apparently not in the mood for a science lesson. It was probably a good thing he interrupted, because Aang could go on about bison for hours if given the chance.

"But he listens to you. Can't you make him fly somehow?" Jinju asked.

"You try making a bison fly. We're not budging until he feels like it." That was the thing about training bison—temperament was everything. Appa was usually so agreeable—he was one of the temple's best bison—so Aang knew he must be really exhausted. "Besides," he added. "I don't want him to be too tired to race."

Jinju flopped onto his back, arms spread, long legs draped over the saddle. "Won't hafta worry about that if we never get there," he muttered.

--

Aang never imagined time could pass so slowly.

_So hot. _In the distance Aang could see the distinct line where the shade from a passing cloud ended. The wavering separation between relief and this torture. He was tempted to dive into the water again.

He raised a lethargic arm to the sky. "Look. It's time for afternoon meditation."

Jinju rolled his eyes. Neither of them moved.

--

"Hear that?" Jinju asked. Without moving Aang focused his attention on the only sound of any significance: the monotonous _splash, splash, splash_ of the water. But there was something different about it. The two boys shared a silent glance before crawling to the edge of the saddle. They leaned over and looked down. The water swirled and bubbled around Appa's churning legs.

"He's swimming!" Aang exclaimed with a wide smile. "We're moving!" Jinju cheered, too.

Suddenly invigorated the two leaped up, dancing about the saddle and whooping. Aang shimmied forward to share the exciting news with Li, Jinju close behind. "Li, we're swimming! Appa's finally moving!" Aang announced.

Li, slouched messily against the bison's back, didn't even look at him. "I noticed," he murmurered dully. "I'm sitting right here."

"Aren't you happy? We're making some progress now."

"Oh, hurray. Let's sing and dance and jump for joy." He clasped his hands in front of his chest, voice airy and biting. "Please. We don't even know where we're going." His arms spread wide as if embracing the emptiness. "We could be anywhere. We could be going farther into the middle of the ocean. I don't call that progress." Finally he turned to point his carping, bug-eyed gaze at them. "And you don't look like you're dying."

Deflated, the two boys slumped back to the middle of the saddle. Aang remained standing while Jinju lay down and threw his arms over his face with a tired groan. Aang surveyed the waves. The swells were low, rolling hills of water. The sea was vast, and all at once the vastness was suffocating. In his mind Yuka taunted him. _Coward. Coward. Do something._

Kneeling, Aang picked up his staff and opened the glider without his usual flourish.

"What are you doin'?" Jinju asked warily. He propped himself on his elbows. "Aang what are you gonna do?" he repeated when he recieved no answer.

Aang stretched his arms and legs before fixing his grip on the glider. "Li's right," he said stepping up to the edge of the saddle. "This is no good. We've been out here all day without getting anywhere, and we're not going to get anywhere just sitting around. There has to be something out there—land, people, a boat maybe."

"Do you _see _anything?"

"No," Aang admitted. "But I'm going to find something." It was the perfect line for a dramatic exit, but Jinju wasn't ready to let him go.

"You mean you're gonna leave me here with _them?_" Jinju hissed.

With a sigh Aang turned with his glider still raised. If he didn't leave soon he was going to lose his mind. "I'm coming back," he said trying to hide his annoyance. "I'm not leaving forever."

"But what if you get lost?" Jinju persisted. "What if you can't find your way back?"

Aang rolled his eyes at this, and didn't try to hide it. "How can you lose a ten-ton flying bison?"

--

_How did I lose a ten-ton flying bison in the middle of an empty ocean?_

He didn't know exactly how long he had been flying. He knew it was hours, but it felt like days or weeks. His arms shook as he struggled to keep the glider steady, and his palms slid on the smooth wood. He was good, but even he couldn't keep this up forever.

The ocean spirit must have had a sense of humor, because the water kept playing tricks on him. There were times when the waves moved with him and it seemed that he was hovering motionless in the air. There were times when the surges rose and stretched toward him and he thought he was falling. And there were times when the sea was glassy and bland, quietly smiling at some private joke.

The ocean was alive, but the air was dead. Not even the slightest breeze to lift him. Maybe the wind spirits were angry because he skipped meditation. Li had skipped today, too. What if Li's prayers and meditations were the only things appeasing the spirits, and now that he stopped they were punishing Aang?

Maybe he _had_ lost his mind. He was really tired. And, he realized, he was really falling this time.

He tried to bend the heavy air around the glider, but his hand slipped and lost its hold. The glider jerked to the side at a sharp angle. He dived. The waves grabbed at his feet and pulled him down. He saw nothing but blue above and blue below, and for the second time that day the water engulfed him. He closed his eyes as he went under.

--

_It was the strangest dream he'd ever had. Later, he would try to describe it to Jinju, but wouldn't be able to find the words._

_He dreamed that he _was_ the ocean. The waves and tides, deltas and rivers, ponds and streams all flowed into him, were part of him. He felt life in him, fishes and animals. He felt death. He felt frigid poles and equatorial warmth. Scurrying feet. Lazy arms. Appa bobbing far away, and a boat very close. All of this connected...to him._

_It was impossible. He thought he was dying. If he was, then the spirit world sounded like voices yelling. Felt like strong hands. Was dark. _

* * *

Note: Hi people! Huge thanks for each review of Chapter 5, and ginormous thanks to ardy for beta-reading, which I forgot to mention before. (Psst...! Go read her fics "Sabotage" and "Prison Conversations." If you haven't read them yet you're missing out!) That's all. The next chapter's much nicer to Aang. :-) 


	7. Chapter 7

**Aang the Brave**

_**Chapter Seven**_

Voices pulled Aang to the surface of consciousness.

A slow, silky baritone. "Would you look at that? I've never seen one up close. Spectacular."

Another voice. "Move over, lemme see."

Shuffling movement.

"What do you think it means to him? Is it a mark of shame or of honor? A reward or a curse?"

"What're you—a poet? It means he's an Airbender."

A sigh. "I know that."

"I didn't know they did it to _kids_." Fingers prodding his forehead.

"Stop that. You're going to wake him up. "

Taking his cue, Aang opened his eyes. "See?" said the baritone smugly. And then, "Welcome back, my boy."

He sat up and the bed shifted underneath him. A hammock, he realized, one of six in the small room. A lantern swung on the ceiling above his head, the only real source of light. The whole room moved up and down; he'd grown accustomed to the rocking waves.

Two young men sat on either side of him, both of them dark skinned and blue eyed, their long hair twisted and beaded. Water Tribesmen. The one who had welcomed him sat on his left. He looked older than Yuka or Li, but this face was round and babyish, with bright, narrow eyes. He didn't look like that deep voice should come from his throat, and he definitely didn't look old enough to call Aang "my boy."

The other one spoke. "Hey, it's about time you woke up. How the hell are you?" This one definitely looked older. His face was thinner and he had a real beard; Li would've been so jealous. And he was eating something; Aang was jealous.

"Hungry," he answered.

The man took another bite from whatever it was he was eating and offered it to Aang. The food was reddish brown and stringy. Warily Aang asked, "What is it?"

"Seal," he answered. "Dried, cured, and smoked to perfection."

"Oh." He'd thought he was hungry enough to eat anything, but faced with the option now he wasn't so sure. "Um, I'm sorry, but I don't eat meat."

"What?" He snatched his food away, as if Aang would infect it. "Don't eat meat? So, what _do _you eat—seaweed?"

"Well, I have on occasion, but I'm not crazy about it." The man looked horrified.

"Don't harass him," said the baritone. "Go on and get him something else. Can you endure for a few more minutes?" he asked Aang, who nodded. "Good boy!"

The bearded guy shoved the rest of the seal meat into his mouth. He winked at Aang. "I'm telling you, you don't know what you're missing." He turned and climbed a ladder, disappearing through a hole in the ceiling.

"Please forgive Keon. He means well," the man laughed. "My name is Akama."

"I'm Aang." He stretched a little, noticing that his stomach didn't hurt so much anymore, and even his sunburn felt better. "This might sound like a strange question, but how did I get here? The last thing I remember is falling, and then...some dream," he trailed off because he doubted he was making much sense.

Akama chuckled. "How did you get here? That's still a mystery to me. You simply _appeared._ Born from the sea like Warra." Aang vaguely remembered the name from a lecture on stories of the Water Tribes.

"Thank you for helping me. I think you probably saved my life."

"Of course. I'm just glad we found you when we did. The sea is a dangerous puzzle—steadfast, yet ever changing." It sounded like he was reciting something. "Rest," he said.

He had a bed, he was warm and dry, he was going to get food to eat. He should have been happy, but Aang couldn't help feeling guilty. He was comfortable while the others were still miserable on Appa's back.

"I don't know where my friends are. I lost them out there," he lamented. "Can you help me find them?" Something about his statement struck Aang as odd. His _friends?_ Where did that come from? He tested the word. Perhaps Jinju could be called a friend now, and maybe—_maybe—_even Li. But since when were name-calling, pushing and attempted drowning considered friendly gestures?

"No, you didn't," Akama said, his deep voice interrupting Aang's thoughts.

"I didn't what?"

"You didn't lose them. You know just where they are. When we pulled you from the water you told us." He looked at Aang curiously. "You pointed and said, 'Go this way. _Exactly_ this way. They're waiting for me,' again and again before you finally collapsed. It was all very strange."

"I did that?" Aang asked, bewildered. "Are you sure?"

"Absolutely. You were exhausted, so I suppose you wouldn't remember. I'm sorry to say that we haven't found anything yet, but we're still searching." He studied Aang for a moment. "Thirsty?" He didn't wait for Aang's answer, but produced a long waterskin from his side. Aang took it and drank greedily, the lukewarm water soothing to his parched throat. When he had his fill, he inspected the waterskin. He'd seen one like it before, belonging to a woman at Kwita who performed tricks with the water inside. She bended the water into fantastic shapes—intricate spirals, fish, and even people—and froze them into ice figurines.

"Are you a Waterbender?" Aang asked.

"I am. And you're an Airbender," Akama replied, smiling so that his eyes were tiny sparkling slits. "Keon and I were admiring your artwork." Aang laughed; no one had ever described his tattoo as artwork before. He fingered his forehead shyly.

"I've figured out what it means," Akama announced. "It's a symbol of good fortune."

"I don't know about that. All I've had is bad luck." Nothing had gone right on this trip. And he was traveling with the only three people in the world who could make a guy wish he had hair just so he could rip it out.

"Sounds like you've got quite a story. Tell me, how does this little Airbender find himself all alone and floating on the water instead of among the clouds?"

Aang was happy to share his story, and he told Akama everything—about the sky bison polo tournament and the bison races, the blind sailor, the island, the woman with starry eyes, the daring escape, the fighting; naturally, he left out the embarrassing details. When Keon returned with a bowl of gruely, soupy something for Aang, he started his story over from the beginning. He ate as he spoke, and to his deprived tongue the bland mash was delicious.

When he finished, Aang waited for their response as he slurped up the dregs of the bowl. Keon looked at his friend, leaned back in his seat and exclaimed with a grin, "Damn!"

--

"We are here." Akama pointed with one thick finger. He'd brought the map down to Aang, and the three of them were studying it now. Like Aang's old one, it was a map of the west. He could remember approximately where the cannibal island was. They were way off course, and way off schedule. And they were separated by miles of ocean. And the sun was about to set. _And,_ he reminded himself, _I'm doing everything I can. Think happy thoughts, Aang._

He noticed the ship's course on the map, current and depth markings stretching from the South Pole to the inner harbor of the Fire Nation. "I've never been to the South Pole before. But there's an island nearby with elephant koi that you can ride on. Have you ever been there?"

Keon scratched his bearded chin thoughtfully. "Now that you mention it, I do remember seeing those giant fish from the boat. You actually ride on those?"

"Yeah, it's a lot of fun!"

"Well, I've never ridden a giant fish, but in the South Pole kids go penguin sledding. Now that's a good time. Brings back memories, doesn't it?" He looked to Akama who laughed in agreement.

"Penguin sledding, huh?" Aang tried to imagine kids careening down snowdrifts on the backs of little black and white birds. "I'll have to try that someday."

Above, on the main deck, Aang could hear more voices and movement. "What are you going to the Fire Nation for?" he asked.

Keon grinned. "Because that's where the money is!"

"What do you mean?"

"Let's show him," suggested Akama. "What do you say? Feel up to a short stroll? Walking will be good for you."

"Sure, I feel great." Aang pushed his covers off (and tried not to cringe as he noticed that they were made from some sort of animal skin) and floated himself off the mattress with Airbending. Akama and Keon laughed—people always liked that trick. Instinctively, Aang reached for his staff, and let out a little "oh!" when he realized it was missing.

"When you found me, you didn't happen to see a wooden staff around, did you?" Aang asked, hopefully.

Akama shook his head. "No, I'm sorry. Only you." Oh, well. Aang tried not to be too disappointed. If fate saw fit to take his glider in exchange for his life, then who was he to complain?

Aang was glad to go above deck. The setting sun cast a beautiful pink glow on the water, and the cool breeze was uplifting. To think that this was the same ocean that had tormented him hours before!

Besides Akama and Keon, there were only four other young men aboard, each working diligently at his task. Two Waterbenders stood at the bow, propelling the boat forward with graceful movements. They waved when they saw him, and the boat shuddered with their lapse of concentration.

His guides led him towards the stern, and Aang was surprised to see another, smaller boat pulled behind and secured by thick, masterly knotted cords. The deck was covered with stacks of tall metal drums each boasting a scratched Fire Nation symbol and strapped to the boat with netting.

He wanted to inquire about this, but Akama was already disappearing into the spacious cargo hold. Aang followed and Keon came down last, holding a lantern over his head. From the wavering light, Aang could make out the reflective shapes of dozens upon dozens of the same metal barrels. The air was heavy with a dank odor. Aang covered his nose as he followed Akama.

Akama pried the top off of one of the drums, and Aang peeked in. The smell that wafted out was disgusting. He leaped back, sputtering. Keon laughed behind him. "What is that?" Aang covered his face with both hands and took another look. The drum was full of dirty water.

"Liquid gold!" Keon announced proudly. Aang raised a confused eyebrow. "Whale oil." Aang looked again, this time noting the slippery sheen.

"You're going all the way to the Fire Nation to sell whale oil?"

"Let me explain," Akama said as he replaced the barrel's cover. "The Fire Nation is a businessman's paradise. Change is in the air. Firelord Sozin is building great cities, giving birth to new technology. Innovation needs fuel. And that's where we come in, for where does one find the finest oil?"

"From the finest whales," piped Keon. "In particular, the mighty long-horned mammoth whale."

"And where only does one find the long-horned mammoth whale?"

Aang was catching on. "The South Pole?" he guessed.

"Exactly."

"How mammoth is a mammoth whale?" Aang mused.

"Bigger than your elephant koi," Keon bragged.

"Big enough to eat a bison whole?"

"Let me put it this way," said Akama. "Your bison could swim laps in a mammoth whale's eye socket."

"Wow," Aang breathed. He could hardly imagine an animal that big. He gazed about the cargo hold. "So all of this oil came from one mammoth whale? And the barrels on the other boat, too?"

"No," Akama said. "It's impossible to capture a mammoth whale. Men have died trying. They're simply too big." He winked. "But our buyer doesn't know that."

Now Aang was really catching on. "So you lied?"

"Basically."

Aang grinned. "That is very..." he paused, searching for the right word, and settled on "sly."

Akama laughed heartily. "That, my boy, is good business."

--

As night fell, so did Aang's mood. The big lantern squeaked on its hinge, a soft yellow beacon lighting their path from the tip of the bow. Beside him, Akama and the other two Waterbenders moved gracefully against the current. Aang scoured every inch of water and tried to pierce the darkness with his eyes. He yawned and rested his forehead against the wooden rail. He thought of Jinju stranded with maniac Yuka and moody Li and sharks and whales and koi fish that could swallow a bison whole, and he lifted his head again.

--

"There!" Aang cried. "Off the starboard bow!" Six heads swiveled in the wrong direction. Flustered, he corrected himself, "I mean port!" Even from a distance, Appa's shadowy bulk was unmistakable to Aang. And was that someone waving? They were all right! They were still alive!

The deck grew lively as the Waterbenders subtly adjusted the ship's course. Aang felt lighter, as if a weight had been lifted from him. He realized suddenly just how worried he'd been. What if he'd never found them? What if they'd been hurt? More selfishly, what if he'd had to explain to the Head Monks how he'd lost one of their bison and three of their pupils?

Something rose from Appa's saddle and began to fly towards them. For the fleeting moment before he remembered that the only one left with both a glider and the ability to use it was Yuka, Aang was ecstatic. A cheer rose up as he landed on the deck and snapped his glider closed. Arms crossed, Aang refused to greet him with more than a glare, and Yuka offered little more.

"Not quite the warm reunion I anticipated," laughed Akama as he turned to Yuka. "But we welcome you, my friend."

Soon they were at Appa's side, and boat and bison drifted languidly together. Li bended himself easily up the ship's wooden side and over the railing, eliciting another round of cheers from the crew. Keon draped a friendly arm over Aang's shoulder. "You tell me, what are the chances of finding four Airbenders in one day? That's just the kind of luck we needed. And all thanks to our little lucky charm," he said, kneading Aang's head with his knuckles.

Clutching his staff, Jinju tried to imitate Li. He jumped and twirled but came up short with each try and was left scrabbling at the planks like a mouse as he fell. "Well, three and a half ain't bad," Keon said, shrugging. "Somebody throw him a rope."

Aang groaned, embarrassed for Jinju. "No, I got him." He leaped over the rail and, featherlike, fluttered to the saddle.

Aang couldn't see his face clearly in the dark, but his voice sounded defensive. "It's a lot harder than it looks."

"Yeah, you're right," Aang lied. It was simple, basic Airbending; babies could do it! "First of all, hand me your staff—it's just getting in the way," he instructed. "Now do what you did before, but don't kick your legs, and push down with your arms. Ready?" Jinju crouched. "Jump!" As he leaped, Aang used the staff to create a pillow of air and give him the extra boost he needed to reach the rail. The crew pulled him over and another joyful roar filled the night. Aang followed him up.

"Well done, my boy!" Akama congratulated, pounding Aang's back so roughly that he stumbled forward. "Your friends are safe." He turned to the crew. "A celebration! In honor of-" But he didn't get to finish, because at the word "celebration" such a loud cry went up that even Akama's explosive voice could not overpower it.

Aang peeked over the railing at Appa, and imagined his belly barnacle-encrusted and pruney from the salt water. He tugged on Akama's sleeve to get his attention. "Do you think there's room for one more?"

--

Aang was no expert, but even he would use the word "galley" loosely to describe the room to which they'd been taken. It was almost as cramped as the sleeping quarters. There was a delicately carved whale-bone table, out of place in these rugged surroundings, more stacks of oil-filled drums, and other crates and containers from which soupy gruel and stale bread was served to the three starving Airbenders.

They sat across the table from him, and Aang struggled to contain his laughter as he watched them shovel food into their mouths. Had he looked that crazed when he ate that afternoon?

From the head of the table Akama boomed, "Your attention." Instantly the room fell silent and all eyes turned to him. He lifted his cup. "A toast to the safety of our dear companions. May the spirits bless their journey. And," he motioned with the cup towards Aang, "our thanks for the fortune brought to our voyage by this brave Nomad." Another loud chorus from the men. Aang beamed.

Akama took a gulp from the cup and passed it to the man beside him, who drank and passed it on to Aang. He held it in both hands and peered inside at the bubbling amber liquid. He looked up to see Li frowning at him and shaking his head, but Keon, on his other side, clapped his back with a hearty, "Go for it, kid!" so he did. It had barely touched his tongue before a shudder ran through him and he spat the entire burning mouthful back into the cup, gagging. It was awful!

Oblivious, Keon grabbed the cup from his hands and, before Aang could stop him, took a long swing and passed it to the next man. Aang cringed with every swallow. When the cup reached Jinju he only had time to sniff it before Li seized it from him and, throwing Aang an "I told you so" look, passed it to Yuka. He drained it, backwash and all. Aang couldn't watch.

Moments later, everyone had their own cup. Aang filled his with water and gargled to get the bitter taste out of his mouth. He leaned back in his seat and listened to the conversation which shifted from the selling price of whale oil to food and then off to wilder, noisier tangents. Aang heard Akama say that he had fallen madly in love with a woman at Port Fudo who could spit through the gap in her front teeth and hit a target ten feet away.

Someone said, "Just like you were madly in love with that singer from Dai?"

Akama grinned. "Yes, exactly."

"And that merchant's daughter in Yeda?"

"I haven't forgotten her."

"And what about your girl back home?"

_What _about _them? _Aang thought. _Let's talk about long-horned mammoth whales. Tell me more about penguin sledding._

"Ah," Akama sighed. "I love them all, but Pania has my heart."

Someone yelled, "Bastard's hornier than a hog monkey!"

Aang smiled. Finally something he knew about! Over the roar of laugher he shouted, "Actually, I've seen hog monkeys, and they don't have horns!" He was surprised when the room suddenly fell quiet. He couldn't imagine what he'd said to command their attention so. It was really a very common mistake; people often confused hog monkeys and goat baboons.

He jumped a little when a shrill, wavering peal of laughter broke the silence, and was shocked when he saw that it was Li, holding his stomach, eyes shut tight against the tears that threatened to fall. He lowered his head to the table and banged it with a fist. It was the first time Aang had heard Li laugh in days, and he didn't think he was even capable of laughing so hard.

His laughter was contagious and the sailors howled. From across the table, Jinju caught Aang's eye. "I don't get it." Aang shrugged.

--

Once he calmed down, Li excused himself saying he was tired, and Akama led him to the sleeping quarters. Aang and Jinju followed, leaving Yuka alone with the rest of the crew. Akama kindly offered his friends' hammocks for them to sleep in. Even after his two impromptu naps that day, Aang was tired. But as he swung in the hammock, staring at the dark ceiling, his mind was humming and he couldn't sleep. Careful not to wake either of his companions, he climbed out of the hammock and up to the main deck.

Besides Appa, enjoying a well-deserved rest, the deck was deserted, and besides the undulating sounds of revelry from the galley, all was quiet. Aang climbed onto the rail and sat with his legs hanging over the side. It was a cloudless night, and he let his mind wander as he watched the swaying reflection of the stars.

He leaned forward and tested himself to see how far he could go before vertigo made him pull back. It was a pretty long way down to the water. He swung his feet. If one of his shoes fell off, he would let it sink. Maybe it would wash up on some distant shore and someone without shoes would find it and put it on. But what good was one shoe; either for him or the shoe-finder? He decided that if he lost one shoe he would drop the other in, too. What were the chances that they wouldn't be separated?

Then he thought, what were the chances that after being separated from Jinju, Yuka, and Li he would find them again? Akama said he had told them exactly where to find his friends. But that was impossible; before he'd fallen he was utterly lost. All he remembered was that weird dream, and only vaguely. Maybe Akama was joking with him. Or, more likely, it was a fluke and he just happened to point in the right direction.

Whatever the explanation, he was glad to have found his friends. There was that word again—_friends_. Aang amended: _I'm glad I found my friends. I also found Yuka because he was with them._

As if he sensed someone thinking about him, Yuka climbed to the deck, clutching a sloshing cup in one hand. He spotted Aang and walked over. Aang groaned; Yuka was the last person in the world he wanted to talk to.

He pretended not to notice when Yuka stood beside him. For a long time they said nothing, and Aang began to worry that Yuka was going to push him again. He held on to the rail a little tighter, but didn't move.

"They," Yuka said suddenly. He spoke very slowly and carefully. "Are. A. Riiiot." Aang ignored him. Yuka didn't seem to care. He leaned against the rail quietly.

Finally, when he could take it no more, Aang said, "Do you want to know what I did today?" He didn't wait for an answer. "I'll tell you. Today I woke up in the middle of the ocean. It was a nice day so I sat in the sun for a while. Then I took a swim. Then I sat in the sun some more. Then I realized that I forgot to eat or drink, so I went to find some food and water. I got lost on the way to the market, but I didn't give up. I just kept going and going and going until I just couldn't go anymore and I fell. I went swimming again. Then I started drowning, and I died. But I came back to life. I was at the market, so I decided to bring it all to some people without food. So I did." He took a breath and added, "The end."

"What are you trying to say?" Yuka asked.

"Nothing," Aang answered innocently. "I just thought you'd like to hear it. Pretty good story, huh? I hope you weren't worried about me while I was gone. Dying's not so bad. You just fall asleep and have a weird dream. Doesn't even hurt."

"Don't be a smartass. What are you trying to say?"

He threw his hands up in frustration. "Oh, I don't know. Maybe a 'Thanks for risking your life to save us, Aang'. A 'Sorry for trying to kill you earlier, Aang' would be nice." Yuka stared into his cup as if it held all the secrets of life. "You don't even hear me."

"I heard every word," he answered without looking up. "I'm not sorry."

"I know." Aang leaned forward again until he had butterflies in his stomach and his muscles tensed involuntarily. Yuka tilted his cup until a drop gathered on the rim, grew, and fell into the sea. He closed his eyes and tilted his head as if listening for it to plunk into the water.

Suddenly his expression twisted from serenity to anger. "I can't stand you," he hissed. "I can't stand you people!"

Something inside him snapped and Aang pulled back, sitting straight. "What! I didn't do anything. I'm just sitting here. Jinju and Li are _asleep_! We're not doing anything to you so what's your problem?"

"You don't get it."

"I don't get _you_! You really are crazy!" _Am I _trying _to get beat up?_

But Yuka didn't lash out. He stared into his cup. When he finally spoke, his voice was so quiet that Aang could barely hear him. "You remember the blind sailor from that story?"

"Yeah."

"He was smart."

Not following Yuka's thinking, Aang just said, "Okay."

"What if he hadn't gone?"

Aang tried to remember the story. "You mean if he hadn't gone into the forest?" Yuka nodded. "Then, I guess, he wouldn't have gotten hurt and his friends wouldn't have been killed. And he could still be a sailor and go all over the world like he used to. He'd have a happy life." After a moment he added, "He made the wrong choice."

"But he _chose_," Yuka said with such intensity that Aang's breath caught in his throat. He lifted the cup to his lips, but his words still hung in the air, fluttering like moths. Maybe it was the way the stars twinkled on the ocean, making the ship seem to float on the universe, or maybe it was the drunken lilt in his voice, but Yuka's words _lived_.

Aang leaned forward again, holding on to the rail, and dared himself to let go.

* * *

Note: No physical harm to Aang in this chapter, he deserves a rest. And thank you all for the kind reviews! 


	8. Chapter 8

Note: Hello everyone! So sorry for the long wait--I was bad! But here's the new chapter, hope you enjoy it. And thanks, as always, for the kind reviews!

* * *

**Aang the Brave**

_**Chapter Eight**_

_There are as many theories about how the world began as there are riverside villages with wise elders and cities with scientists. But the wandering gypsies claim they know the truth, and their's is a story that passes from the mouths of the Old Men to the minds of those who cross paths with their caravans. _

_It began with a woman who desired nothing more than a family, children who would love her and care for her when she grew old. Finally, she became pregnant and her belly grew round and swollen until she gave birth. She became Mother first to the sun, and then to the moon and stars. Lastly, Mother brought life to her four favorite children, the ones who loved her most. Peaceful Water, strong Earth, fierce Fire and gentle Air. She made a home for them on her swollen belly, the world. _

_Mother's children lived happily in the world for some time but, like all children, they soon grew bored. So together they devised a plan. They wanted to create toys to play with—people—and asked Mother for permission. She was delighted and watched her children work. Water's people rose from the ocean. Earth carved its people from a great mountain. Fire's people sprung from a raging volcano, and Air's floated down from the sky. When all of the people were made, Mother gave them life._

_As the years passed, the four element children happily watched their people grow and start families. But all too soon, something terrible happened. The people began to die. Horrified, the children asked Mother why their people were dieing. _

"_Death," she explained, "is part of life, just as you, my children, are part of me. Death is the weight that keeps the cycle of life balanced. It is eternal. You must understand this, my darlings, and you must understand that people cannot last forever."_

_But it is difficult for children to understand these things. Water, Earth, Fire, and Air were furious with Mother for creating death. Their fury grew into hatred, and the hatred spread to their people. The people began to hate each other, and they began to fight and to kill each other. There was war. The people's blood stained the land, the mountains and marshes and deserts of Mother's belly. She grew very sad. Her own children hated her, the people hated her. She needed to stop the warring and restore harmony. _

_The blood that stained Mother's belly, the life and death of the people, slowly seeped into her womb and grew. Mother gave birth to a new child, one like the people—a man. Mother blessed him with the power to control her four rebellious children and set him in the world. _

_Her children were curious. Who was this new man that Mother had created? Why was he here? They drew closer to look at him, and stretched their hands out to touch him. But the moment their fingers touched him, the man grabbed hold of the children and pulled with all his strength. One by one Water, Earth, Fire, and Air fell into the man's body, and he locked them away. _

_With the power of the elements sealed, harmony returned to the world, and the people stopped fighting. They were grateful to the man who had saved them from their own hatred, this special child created from their own blood. The man was a part of them, but also part of Mother. Born form the cycle of life and death, this was a man who would last forever. _

--

The following morning found Aang and his companions in no mood for flying, especially Appa, who had claimed half the deck as his own and wouldn't have budged even if they wanted him to, and Yuka who wouldn't budge from his hammock and complained of a terrible headache and nausea. Aang figured he was seasick. The Water Tribesmen happily invited them to stay another day and recuperate, and every so often one of them would bring something to Yuka—something to drink or eat or sniff—that was supposed to make him feel better.

Aang didn't want to be a burden, so he tried to make himself useful, but after getting caught underfoot one too many times realized that the crew had everything under control and he could best help by staying out of the way. The Water Tribesmen only requested their help with fishing; Keon asked to rub Aang and Jinju's heads for luck as they cast the net. They obliged, giggling at the absurdity of the whole ordeal. But there must have been something to it because when the men hauled the net up it jerked to the agonized dance of a fish bigger than Aang. It flopped about wildly, thumping the side of the boat, and when they pulled it over its dark skin glistened with iridescent purples and greens. That one fish would provide enough food to last for days, but although Aang was happy for his new friends, he felt uneasy watching the fish suffocate, seize and gape.

They also spent much of the day studying maps and planning a new course to the Northern Air Temple. Akama's unsuspecting buyer resided on the west coast of the Fire Nation, so that's where the boat was heading. Half a day of flying would get them to the coast without a problem, but they'd be farther west than anticipated—on the main island instead of the smaller archipelago—which would add a few days to their trip. At this point, Aang was just glad to be moving. They were so far behind schedule now that there was no chance of catching the beginning of the tournament, which wasn't such a big deal since their team was destined to lose anyway. As long as they arrived in time for Aang to enter the race, he'd be happy.

The sun was little more than an orange globule, a marble balanced between sea and hazy sky, when they left. A new day, a new beginning and, Aang felt, a new leg of their journey. They were refreshed and close to the Fire Nation now, armed once again with map, food, and water. Things would be different, he was sure of it.

The boat rocked as Appa pushed himself into the air. As they climbed higher Akama's resonating voice rose with them. "Come visit us! We'll go penguin sledding anytime!" They waved until the boat shrunk to the size of an artichoke, and to a kukui nut, and to a grain of sand, and finally disappeared.

--

Hours passed without the tension of the days before. Behind him, Aang could hear Li and Jinju conversing quietly, with occasional comments from Yuka. No threats or name calling; no sobbing or screaming. Aang never thought civility could bring such bliss.

He had learned a lot about his companions since they left the Southern Air Temple. The kind of things you only learned about someone after spending weeks confined with him on the back of a bison, even if you've spent a lifetime sharing the same roof. For instance, he learned that Jinju didn't come to the temple until he was five, which may have explained why his Airbending skills were so far behind everyone else's. Aang tried to remember his arrival, but either the memory had faded or Jinju's absence had gone just as unnoticed as his existence.

Jinju told him that he missed his family and that when he mastered Airbending and could leave the temple he would go back to them. Aang knew nothing about his family. The same was true of many of his friends, although he knew some boys who received letters from their families regularly and they sometimes let Aang visit with them. For all he knew his life had begun at the Southern Air Temple (An exaggeration, of course—he hadn't had _that _class yet, but didn't need to know all the details to know it was impossible). It was just as well, and it didn't bother him much. What use would it be to return after sixteen years to a family from which both his place in it and its place in him had been erased by time? The Air Temple was truly his home—the only one he knew and the only one he needed.

He learned that Li had to sneeze at least four times every morning before he could do anything. Sometimes it was more; the most Aang had counted was nine, although Li claimed he could pull twenty. He knew he'd have a bad day if it was any less than four. Then he'd be unbalanced, incomplete, anxious for that fourth sneeze until he fell asleep, assuming he was able to will himself to sleep on such a night. Three sneezes was an especially bad omen, meaning that something terrible would happen, either to Li or someone else. Aang laughed at that, but Li insisted it was true and gave examples. He had sneezed three times when he broke two fingers in an airball accident when he was eleven. He released a morbid three-sneeze dirge a year ago when Monk Safa passed away. And, he confessed, he had sneezed only three times the day they landed on the cannibal island.

"Li, why didn't you say something?" Aang asked, peeved, when he learned this detail. "You could've saved us a lot of trouble."

"No, think about it," he responded. "How long had we been flying? I doubt a 'bad feeling' would've convinced anyone not to land. It didn't even convince me. Besides," he added with a cool smile, "how was I supposed to know you'd be spooked by a story?"

Rather than attempt another futile defense, Aang said, "Well, next time let us know. At least we won't be caught off guard."

"And how, exactly, does one prepare oneself to be chased off an island by imaginary cannibals?"

Aang decided to drop it. He wouldn't get into that argument again, because it always ended the same way. He knew what he saw, and Jinju could back it up. They weren't imagining things and they weren't crazy. "Crazy," he had also learned, was Yuka's department. You had to be a little demented to do some of the things Yuka claimed he did. Like hide one of the little striped fish from the fountain in his mouth until lunchtime, when he strolled over to the new initiates' table and nonchalantly plunked the squirming animal into the cup of the young monk who dared to reprimand him.

Yes, Yuka had lost his mind a long time ago. And he had mood swings worse than Bumi's mother. One minute he was friendly and teaching you Airbending tricks, the next he was trying to beat you over the head with his staff and calling you a coward and wishing he was a blind sailor. Aang just prayed that whatever happened to Yuka wouldn't happen to him when he turned sixteen.

As he reflected on all they'd been through, Aang wondered how it was that what was meant to be a simple trip to the tournament had transformed into such a series of misadventures. It reminded Aang of the legends about the avatars, who traveled the world to learn the bending arts and keep peace, never knowing what challenges they would face or what life-and-death decisions they would have to make. Admittedly, the word meant little to Aang. All he could really remember was that the avatar was reincarnated and was supposed to keep the world balanced. It was the stuff of boring history lessons that he spent doodling bison pictures instead of taking notes. He knew the last avatar was a Firebender, and the next one was supposed to be an Airbender, and that was a big deal with everyone.

But, for now at least, life on the saddle was perfect. They flew high among wispy clouds, and the breeze held a touch of warmth. Aang knew that when they landed the air would be hot and heavy, and they would be wrapped in the deep embrace of the Fire Nation.

--

Port Fudo was immense. From the air they could see that the city stretched on for miles in all directions, yet the homes and shops were built almost on top of one another, especially the ones closest to the docks. People crammed into every available space on the docks, from sun baked sailors to screaming vendors with carts. Aang guided Appa to settle between two enormous trading ships, taking advantage of the shade they provided. He was surprised that they only received a few curious glances; a port as big as Fudo was probably used to seeing nomads.

Yuka leaped to the deck, stretching and inhaling the port's heady aroma, and Aang imitated him, breathing deeply. Spices and flowers, salt water and sweat perfumed each languorous breeze, and Aang swore he could even taste the air. This was how the Fire Nation welcomed, assaulting every sense, making heads swim.

Jinju gaped at his surroundings, overwhelmed by the towering boats and the sea of strange, colorful people crowding the pier and market. "This place is great," he said to Aang. "Have you been here before?"

"Nope," Aang admitted. "But this port's even bigger than Kwita, and Kwita's _huge_."

"Can we go look around? Please—real quick? Maybe we can find that lady who spits through her teeth." Aang knew from experience that there was no such thing as "real quick" when it came to a place like Port Fudo. There was so much to see and do, he was certain that they could be lost there for hours and hardly see any of it. Although he too was dying to explore the place, they didn't have time to spare. Aang suggested that they stop on their way back from the tournament as he jumped from Appa's head and gave him an affectionate pat between the eyes, receiving a slimy bison kiss in return.

"Fire flakes!" Aang turned to the source of the yell. Slowly making his way toward them, a man pushed his rickety cart. "Homemade! Best in town!"

"I'd kill for some fire flakes," Yuka moaned. Fire flakes weren't Aang's favorite, but he could empathize with Yuka. After eating only gruel and hard bread for the last two days, his tongue was begging for variety. Unfortunately, his meager savings were being enjoyed by cannibals, otherwise he might have bought a bag of the spicy snack.

"What do you think?" Yuka mused. "Bet I could get two bags for you. Hell, three for lemur head."

"Maybe if you ask nicely he'll give you some." Aang suggested, ringing saliva from his shirt. "Tell him you're starving. He might feel sorry for you and give you a bag for free." He looked up just in time to see Yuka sprinting down the dock. "I wasn't serious!" he yelled, but to his surprise the teenager slipped around the fire flake vendor and continued down the walkway. Aang searched for whatever had excited Yuka, finally spotting frantically waving arms above the crowd's bobbing heads. He jumped to Appa's head, and from that vantage point was able to see the children connected to the arms, and the three furry mountains under their feet.

He waved back while calling to Li and Jinju, "Look, there are some Nomads on the other side. I think they want us to come over."

"Perfect," Li said. "They'll feed us. We'll share what we have with them, of course," he added sarcastically, grabbing the sack that held all of their possessions—a couple of half empty waterskins and some bread crumbs. He floated to the deck and ran off. Jinju followed clumsily, leaving Aang alone to guide Appa through the water.

Li was right—Nomads were always hospitable to traveling pupils from the Air Temple. Aang couldn't recall ever running into a Nomad family that didn't try to feed him something. The only problem was that the invitation "stay for lunch" would become "stay for dinner" which would become "stay the night" and they'd lose another day. As he and Appa glided past moored trading ships and fishing boats, Aang tried to think of a way to decline their inevitable hospitality without causing offense. Finally, Appa came to a halt beside the other three bison, and they greeted each other with sniffs and low grumbles. Aang was greeted by a stampede of curious kids.

"Which Air Temple are you from?"

"Hey, do you know my sister Kuna?"

"What's your bison's name?"

"Can I play with your glider?" Aang laughed as the children surrounded him with an easy familiarity. One boy deposited a toddler in Aang's arms and darted off to examine Yuka and Jinju's abandoned staffs. The little boy kicked and squirmed, screaming, "No, no, no!" He struggled to hold onto the child as he attempted to climb Aang like a tree. Just as he nearly dropped the boy head first on the saddle one of his sisters came to the rescue, taking the toddler from Aang and balancing him on her hip. She grinned and apologized, revealing a missing front tooth.

"All of you off that bison right now, before he sinks!" a voice commanded. The crowd of kids dispersed with only a little protest.

"Come on," the girl said. "Your friends are over here with Mom," and grabbed Aang's wrist. They saddle-jumped over the backs of two bison where the girl stopped and set her howling brother down. Aang went alone to the last bison where Yuka, Li, and Jinju were already gathered along with three teenagers—two boys and a girl—and a woman holding an infant. Her delicate, pale hands contrasted with her baby's dusky skin, and the child's chubby knees cradled the full curve of the woman's stomach beneath her loose dress.

Aang bowed politely to the woman before sitting down, and she bowed as best she could around the baby and her stomach. "Good afternoon, Master," she greeted him. Beside him he saw Li rolling his eyes. Even after a year it still caught Aang off guard and made him uncomfortable when adults called him "Master" when they saw his tattoos; people like this woman who had children older than him, people to whom he was obliged to defer to while humbly accepting their respect.

"My name is Aang," he said carefully, hoping the implied "_just_ Aang" was clear. "And that's Appa," he added, pointing.

"Okay, Aang...Li...Jinju...Yuka," she pointed to each of them respectively, her gray eyes lingering on their faces. "I'll remember. I'll call you by my every one of my children's names before I get to yours, but I'll remember it eventually!" She smiled warmly. "My name's Tatapi, and this is Lila." She bounced the baby in her arms, then cooed, "Aren't you going to say hello, Lila? Can you say hello? Say _hellooo._" Lila drooled while her older siblings introduced themselves.

"I was just asking your friends if they'd ever met my daughter Kuna. We gave her to the temple when she was just a baby. We usually meet her every summer at the Northern Air Temple, but we won't be going to the tournament this year. I wonder if you know her. She is...she is...oh...How old are you?" she asked her son.

"Fourteen."

"Then Kuna would be thir—_put those gliders down this instant! Those are not toys and they do not belong to you!_" Her features twisted into a dangerous glower and her voice exploded with more power than her petite body seemed able to hold. The four young Airbenders jumped, startled by Tatapi's scream and unexpected shift in demeanor.

"You had better listen to me!" she hollered. The gentle mother was gone, replaced in a breath by a wailing madwoman. On Appa's saddle two boys ran in circles holding Yuka and Jinju's open gliders over their heads, completely ignoring their mother.

"It's all right," Yuka began meekly, "those things are pretty stur-"

"Drop them _now_ or unless you want your father to know how disrespectful—One! Two! So help me if you make me count to three-" Either the combined threats or a short attention span convinced the two brothers to settle down; they snapped the gliders shut, hopped to their family's bison and began rooting through the tied-down packs.

"My nephew went to find some fire flakes for me. You know, I don't even like fire flakes, but I can't get them off my mind." Appeased, Tatapi laughed easily, changing topics without warning and either ignoring or not seeing the confused and amazed faces of her four guests. "When Gul gets back we'll find a place for the bison to graze, and we'll eat our lunch there. Oh, you boys will have lunch with us, won't you?"

"Yes, of course!" They agreed with quick nods and big smiles, lest they upset her.

"Hey, which temple did you say you were from?" the oldest daughter asked. When the told her she smiled and her eyes lit up. "Isn't that where Gul studied?" She looked to her brothers and mother for confirmation.

Tatapi nodded. "Oh, he'll be so excited! My nephew's a master Airbender," she said proudly. "He passed the evaluation effortlessly. He could have stayed at the Air Temple, and I'm certain he would have been an _excellent _monk. He wanted to be with his family. We're very close." They nodded and made the appropriate sounds of interest, but Aang was aware of the uncomfortable atmosphere that settled upon the saddle with Tatapi's defensive tone.

A few minutes later cousin Gul returned with a bag of fire flakes for Tatapi and three for the children to share. He was lanky and swarthy-skinned, with a mustache that curled up at the ends. Blue arrows adorned his shaved head and rough hands, flamboyant in comparison to his plain clothing. They stood to greet him, bowed and introduced themselves. When they told him they were from the Southern Air Temple he gathered them all together in his long arms in a group hug exclaiming, "My brothers!" Aang, his face squashed into Gul's armpit was relieved when Tatapi ordered everyone to find a bison to ride because it was time to go.

When the children were done fighting over who got to ride on Appa with Aang and Jinju, Tatapi yelled roll call. She went too fast for Aang to connect the names with the faces, so he settled for counting. Nine children, one mother, one cousin, and four young Airbenders. The fifteen Nomads spread themselves over the four flying bison and launched into the air, showering the people below with seawater. Gradually gaining speed, the small herd made its way inland, the Fire Nation broad and inviting before them.


	9. Chapter 9

_Note: Some technical difficulties with this chapter...it was almost not meant to be. Thanks to ardy for being patient and to you readers for being fantastic!_

* * *

**Aang the Brave**

_**Chapter Nine**_

As they flew inland over Port Fudo, Appa didn't need to be guided because he followed the other bison instinctively. Aang and Jinju were entertained by their two new saddlemates, Kripa, the boy who had left Aang to carry the baby and Kripi, the girl who had rescued him, and who now wouldn't stop smiling at him and giggling. She was weird, Aang decided. Yuka and Li had promptly abandoned them to ride with the older kids.

"We're twins!" Kripa and Kripi declared in unison. It was easy to see the resemblance; they shared the same dark brown hair and gray eyes, and when they smiled Aang saw that they were both missing a front tooth. They talked nonstop, providing all the details that their mother had failed to mention, and plenty that he had no interest in learning.

"You're going to the tournament, aren't you?" Kripa asked. He didn't wait for an answer. "Lucky! We have to go to Haijan Valley to bury Grandma."

"I'm sorry," Aang said, although Kripa sounded more upset about missing the tournament than the death of his grandmother.

"She's not dead yet, you dolt," Kripi scolded. She turned to Aang and Jinju and said seriously, "She's very, very ill. She's on her deathbed, but Mom says she's lived a very fulfilling life, and she's tired from all the work she's done, so now she gets to rest in the spirit world." She nodded sagely, then added, "She's lived a hundred and twelve years. That's a lot of work."

"Wow," Aang breathed, truly impressed.

"_Anyway_," Kripa said loudly, cross with is sister for stealing the Airbender's attention, "she'll probably be dead by the time we get to the valley. She's there with Grandpa and Uncle Runako and Auntie Jaya and my cousin Nami," he bagan counting on his fingers, "and my cousin Gamba and my cousin Devi and my cousin Nan and my cousin Tai La and my cousin-"

"And a lot of cousins—they get it!" Kripi interupted.

"And right when we were about to leave for the Northern Air Temple, my cousin Gul comes and tells us that Grandma's about to drop dead. So Dad left already, and now Gul's taking us back." Kripa sighed dramatically. "It's not fair. I wish I could've gone with Dad. At least I wouldn't be stuck with _you_," he spat, shooting a glare at his twin.

Kripi frowned at her brother. "First of all, Grandma's not going to 'drop dead,' she's going to 'pass away.' Secondly, Dad is in mourning. The last thing he needs is to be pestered by an annoying little boy." Aang tried not to laugh at their squabbling. Sometimes he argued with his friends at the Air Temple, but then he could always hide away in his room or find an empty garden or hallway until he cooled off. But what if he were trapped with them all the time? He'd lose his mind; it was bad enough being stuck with Jinju, Li and Yuka, and that was only for a few weeks. He couldn't imagine forever.

"Oh, shut up. Can you believe it?" Kripa turned to Aang and Jinju while his sister scoffed. "That bitch coulda keeled over any time and she had to choose now!"

Eyes popping, Kripi gasped. "I'm telling Mom!" she cried, but it sounded more like an instinctive reaction than a threat. "Don't talk like that. Grandma's ghost is gonna haunt you."

Kripa waved his sister's comment aside. "That old bat is gonna haunt me anyway. She hates me—she hates everyone!" Again he turned to the two Airbenders, his face serious. "You have to take me with you."

"No way! Your mom would kill us." Aang had been in trouble with plenty of his friends' mothers, but he had a feeling he really didn't want to be on Tatapi's bad side.

"No, she won't even notice. I have it all planned out. All you have to do is drop me off here, and then when you land and Mom asks where I am say I fell off and you'll go and find me. Then you can come back and we can go the tournament. She'll never have to know!" Aang and Jinju shared a look that said, _He's joking, right?_

Kripi giggled like a little chirping bird. "That's the stupidest idea I've ever heard in my life! You're so dumb!"

"_You're _dumb!" Kripa snarled, and punched his sister in the arm.

"Ow! I'm telling! Mo-oo-m!" she shrieked, leaning over the saddle. "Kripa's hitting me!"

Tatapi's voice drifted on the wind from a bison ahead of and a little below them. "Stop fighting!" Kripi took this to mean that she had won, and she smirked at her brother.

Below them Port Fudo transformed from a bustling city to a town of wide lanes and unhurried people who waved lazily as they flew overhead. Soon they were flying over an open plain. Four immense shadows caressed the rippling grasses which grew into shrubs and merged into a band of trees speckled with golden bloom. Aang could see yellow-tinted mountains in the distance.

On the other side of the trees there was another clearing with a pond close to the treeline. Appa circled down, landed gracefully among the reeds, and began to lap up water with fervent gulps. Tatapi immediately set the men (not "boys!") to work pulling packs off saddles and saddles off bison while she and her daughters erected a makeshift kitchen in the shade. Aang found it interesting to watch them remove the giant saddle, scampering up the bison's tail and neck, pushing it slowly off his back, carefully lowering it into waiting hands on the ground. It took a whole team, and by the time they had one saddle off the Airbenders were already through with the other three.

Gul grabbed the two staffs from his mischievous cousins who were preparing for a sword fight. "These aren't to play with," he said, then held them close to his face, smiling as he appreciated the detailed carving. He opened Yuka's glider. "Gorgeous...perfect!" he muttered. "This is authentic. This is the work of masters. I took my glider with me when I left, but I outgrew it. I was a shrimp when I was sixteen." He held a hand at chest level and grinned at Aang. "Don't worry, you'll be as big as me someday. Is this one yours?" he asked, holding out the smaller staff.

"No, I lost mine," Aang answered. "In the ocean. I was trying to find a boat." Either Gul had heard the story already or he wasn't listening, because he didn't ask Aang to elaborate. Instead he handed the staff to Jinju.

"What do you say—up for a quick race? Do you mind?" He raised his eyebrows at Yuka.

"Knock yourself out. Won't be much of a race, though."

Jinju wasn't offended. Yuka had unintentionally provided him with a way out of an embarrassing situation. "Yeah, I don't really race—but Aang does!" He shoved the staff into Aang's hands as if it was diseased.

"Is that so?" Gul twisted his mustache thoughtfully. "So, Master Aang, you think you can outfly me?"

He grinned. "Well, let's just say," here he twirled the staff in quick circles and snapped the glider open, evoking cheers from the small audience, and positioned the glider behind his back, "I'm the fastest flier I know."

"Oh, a challenge," the man laughed with a cocky smile. "We'll see about that. To the hills," he said, pointing. Far across the clearing the land began a gentle incline.

The group of boys gathered around them, chattering loudly and making bets. Aang was pleased to hear Yuka say, "If I had any money I'd put it on the kid," and Jinju proclaim, "Aang's faster than anyone at the temple. Probably the world!"

Finally they stood back. "Ready...Set...Go!" someone yelled. Gul rocketed off, leaving a whirlwind of dust and yowling cousins in his wake. Aang didn't move; he leaned back on his glider serenely.

"What are you doing?" Kripa screamed, pushing Aang forward. "Move! Are you crazy? I've got five copper pieces on you!"

"Let him have a head start. It's the least I can do," Aang drawled, reveling in their distress, happy to entertain. He wasn't worried; Gul's flying was lively but unsteady from years without practice. He yawned, feigning disinterest, and the boys danced in agitation. Aang waited until Gul was halfway across the field, a tiny orange speck before announcing, "That should be fair. Move back." They parted for him, and Aang hurled the glider through the aisle they made, ran, leaped and caught it in midair without missing a beat. His audience ate it up.

Within seconds their cheers were far behind him. He screamed across the field, the grass one long brown blur beneath him. The wind rushing against his face and playing over the fabric of his clothes was such a relief from the heat. He dived within an inch of the tallest grasses, then shot into the air, twirling. He couldn't be tied down, couldn't be caught, could barely be seen. That last fateful excursion over the ocean didn't count—_this _was what flying was really about.

Yuka's glider, a little too small for Gul, made the man look even bigger, but he sped through the air with birdlike grace. Aang gained on him steadily, and when he was close enough to reach out and and touch his feet he flipped upside down, facing the sky, and ducked underneath Gul. He laughed at Gul's shocked expression. "See you at the finish line," he taunted, darting off again.

Aang curbed his speed as he approached the hills, so that he would only beat Gul by a little bit. He landed beside a towering tree and sat in the shade of its gnarled branches. Yellow petals littered the ground around him. He leaned back, tapping a rhythm against the bark with Jinju's staff.

Aang smiled sweetly as Gul landed with a cry of defeat, snapping the glider closed. He hobbled over, using the staff as a cane, and plopped down beside Aang. "Well done, Master Aang. Very well done." He held a hand out sideways and they shook. "That was even more fun than I remember. Although it hurt a lot more than I remember, too." Wincing, he massaged his shoulders. "Mind giving this old man a few minutes to rest before we head back?"

"No problem," Aang answered. "How old are you anyway?"

"Twenty-seven."

"Wow, you _are_ old!"

Gul laughed loudly. "Thanks a lot." They sat in silence for a while, watching a flock of birds fly overhead, swaying and turning like one giant animal. Warm air enveloped them. Suddenly tired, Aang rested his head against the tree and closed his eyes.

He felt something tickling his hand and looked down. A spindly legged spider crawled over his fingers and he flicked it off with a small shake. It toppled over in the grass before righting itself and glaring at him. "Watch it, kid!" it chided, and Aang gasped in surprise, jerking himself out of a dream.

He blinked sleepily and rubbed his eyes. Gul, too, had fallen asleep, and was snoring heavily beside him, mustache fluttering with each exhale. Aang looked around. The sun was a little lower in the sky, the shadows a little longer. It must have been about an hour. Refreshed, Aang floated to his feet and nudged Gul with the staff. "Wake up! We slept all day and now it's tomorrow afternoon!"

Gul stretched his arms over his head, groaning. "You're kidding me. I can't believe they didn't come get us. I bet the food's cold!"

--

The food was cold, but Tatapi reheated their portions, somehow managing to do this while feeding Lilia, gathering dirty dishes, yelling at her children, and complaining about the heat at the same time. Aang inhaled the aroma of rice and cabbage from the Earth Kingdom and savory spices from Port Fudo. "You taste it first," Gul whispered loudly, "and tell me if it's any good. You can never be too careful with Auntie's cooking."

"Oh, hush. You're worse than them," the woman scolded, waving toward the kids with a dirty spoon. Most of them were gathered around a furious game of marbles. Jinju had started shooting, slowly rebuilding his collection and amazing everybody with his quiet expertise; that's why no one had come to retrieve Aang and Gul. "I can't wait until you have some babies," Tatapi said to Gul as she handed him a dish. "And I hope they're all as bad as you."

While they ate in the shade, Gul showed Aang a map of the Fire Nation. Li came over, too, and sat on Gul's other side. The three Airbenders bent over the map, planning their new course. The best course, according to Gul, was through Sukutai mountains. They'd follow the Meiba River to its junction with the Long River, and follow that great watercourse to the Northern Sea. "But it's too late to leave now," said Gul, although it was still the middle of the afternoon. "You'll stay with us tonight, and follow us to the mountains tomorrow morning." That was that, and Aang was only mildly surprised that he had no desire to protest.

A few minutes later Yuka joined them, carrying Lila; apparently Tatapi had coerced him into burping the baby for her. He looked strange to Aang, holding the child on his shoulder, and Aang's first thought was that if he had a baby he sure wouldn't let Yuka hold it. But Yuka sat down and leaned over Gul's map, mindlessly patting Lila's back with his palm as if it was the most natural thing in the world for him to do. He must have spent plenty of time in the nursery at the Air Temple, Aang guessed. Aang always liked helping out with the small children, as long as he didn't have to change any dirty diapers.

"Li, I finally found someone who you can have a conversation with," Yuka offered a saccharine smile as he lifted the baby. "You want to hold her?"

"You're too thoughtful," Li droned. "Thanks, but no."

"Can I hold her?" Aang asked around a mouthful of cabbage.

"No." Lila gurgled, grabbing at Yuka's face. "Hey, pick your own nose."

"Why not?" Aang persisted. "You were going to let Li."

"Because I'm not done yet." He set her on his other shoulder and resumed a rhythmic beat.

Before Aang had a chance to protest at the unfairness, Kripi bounded over brandishing a chain of yellow flowers. She sat next to Aang—a little too close—and draped the necklace over him. "I made this for you, Aang. I hope you like it."

"Thanks," Aang said. The necklace really was very nice, and it must have taken her a long time to make. Plus, it smelled good; an added bonus since Aang was sure he didn't. He smiled at Kripi appreciatively, and she smiled back. And smiled. And smiled. Aang looked away and when he sneaked a peek out of the corner of his eye, she was still grinning. "You're really creeping me out," Aang wanted to say, but instead mumbled, "Oh, look. It matches my outfit..."

"I know!" Kripi squealed. "Well, don't you have a gift for me?" So that's what she after. He didn't think that was very nice—giving someone a gift just so you could get one in return.

"Yes, I do," Aang lied. "But I'm not done making it yet!" She bought it, and Aang was impressed at how quickly and easily the lie had come to him. Maybe he'd been hanging around Yuka too long.

"Nice save," the teenager said, as if confirming that thought.

Gradually, those who lost their marbles to Jinju wandered over to their little group until they were surrounded by boys and girls. They began doing what had become a tradition among Nomads—naming every Airbender they'd ever met to see if their visitors knew them too. "There were these girls who stayed with us once," one boy said. "Do you know someone named Kaori?"

Aang recognized the name. Immediately a picture of a wiry dark-haired girl sprang to his mind. Kaori played sky bison polo; she was captain of one of the teams, always yelling like a psycho during games. Actually most of the girls who played were pretty scary, and Aang was about to mention this but Yuka beat him. "I know Kaori...very personally," he said.

"A lot of people know her very personally," Li said distastefully. Then he added quickly, "So I've heard."

Hoping to add something useful to the conversation, Aang offered, "She plays sky bison polo."

"That's not all she plays," Yuka said. A few people laughed at this.

_She must play airball, too_, Aang thought. Then, suddenly feeling reckless—probably because Yuka was still holding Lila, and how dangerous can a guy burping a baby be?—he said, "She's pretty loony, though. I guess that's why you're such good friends." Unfortunately, the only person who heard him was Kripi, and it just made her giggle and smile like a fool.

"What about Monk Gyatso?" Gul asked, brushing rice from his mustache. "Is he still around?"

"Yeah!" Aang answered before someone could beat him to it. "He's my teacher."

"Then you're very fortunate. Monk Gyatso is a man who I truly admire and respect. He's an brilliant Airbender, and an exemplary human being. You'll learn a lot from him. Say, does he still bake cakes?"

"Yeah, and he throws them, too."

Gul laughed, and rubbed the top of his head, closing his eyes as he thought. "How about Monk Uichi?"

"Sure! Did he have a beard when you were there? Because he doesn't anymore." Aang laughed as Gul's eyebrows flew up and his mouth hung open.

"Yuka did it," Aang said. The amazement was plain on Gul's face. Aang knew how the older Airbender felt, because it was the same way he had felt when they told him, "Yuka did it." That combination of astonishment, respect, humility, pride. For a split second, Yuka was untouchable again, superhuman again, a legend again, not a lunatic but a genius, and if he'd apologized right then Aang would've forgiven him on the spot.

"How in the world did you pull that off?" Gul inquired.

Yuka shrugged. "I had help. From my buddy Tabari on kitchen duty, and this little old lady in the Earth Kingdom who makes sleeping medicine. The hardest part was figuring out what to do with all that hair. I think we ended up putting it in his dresser drawer."

"Why did you do it?" Aang prodded, since he seemed to be in a talkative mood. "What did Monk Uichi do to you anyway?"

"What did he do to me?" Yuka echoed. "He's full of shit, that's what he did to me."

Aang frowned. "Thanks for clearing that up," he said sarcastically. "I don't think you should talk like that around babies, or girls."

"_Ladies_," Kripi corrected gently.

Gul raised one eyebrow. "Why do you say that, Yuka?"

"It's true." Aang laughed as he scrunched up his face and squinted with one eye—a perfect impersonation of the old monk. He imitated Monk Uichi's raspy voice. "'Yuka, you are a waste of potential. If you spent half as much time focusing on your studies as you do making yourself a nuisance, you might have a glimmer of hope. You, of all people, need to stay within these grounds, where you _belong._'" He grinned at Gul. "I bet he gave you the same kind of crap, didn't he?"

Before Gul could say anything Li spoke up. "It's not crap. He's right. I admit, Monk Uichi's social skills may be lacking, but he has a point. Maybe if you'd just drop your grudge you'd realize that."

"This from a guy who spends half his time hunched over kissing monk ass," Yuka snickered.

"You act like everyone's out to get you. You can't even see that the monks are doing what's in your best interest. That's why they asked me to help you-"

"_I_ didn't ask for help," Yuka sneered. "_I_ didn't ask to be there." The group had grown quiet; their eyes bounced from one teenager to the other, like people watching an airball game. Any pride he had felt evaporated. Li and Yuka had gotten along for two days, and although Aang hadn't fooled himself into thinking the truce was permanent, he didn't understand why they had to start arguing here, now, in front of these people who had been so kind to them. They were embarrassing themselves, and they were embarrassing him.

"Look, will you stop and listen to yourself?" Li hands waved about, emphasizing every word. "If you want to leave so bad, then you have to cooperate _now._ Why is that so hard for you?"

Yuka shook his head in a pitying, almost bewildered manner. "I really don't expect someone like you to understand. Every thought in your head is part of this...this..." He raised his eyes, seeking the right word in heavy yellow branches. "Joke. It's a joke. He gets it," he said, jerking his head at Gul, who looked at Yuka with a small, thoughtful frown.

Li was livid. "Why? Because he left the temple? That automatically puts him on your side? Take a look, Yuka." He gestured to Gul with one sweeping hand, as if presenting the older Airbender before a council. "Here's the difference between you and him—he's a _Master_. You aren't even close, and you aren't trying. He's had nothing but praise for the Air Temple. You have no respect for the traditions of your own people! I'm not saying you have to agree with them, but at least make an effort to _understand_ them."

Yuka turned to Gul. "But you're glad you left," he told him, as if this was a fact as obvious as the weather. "You're happier now than you were there, aren't you?" He persisted. Aang was shocked, and he held his breath involuntarily. That wasn't a question you just went around asking people. Leave it to Yuka to grab on to the touchiest subject and throw salt in its eyes. Gul said nothing at first; he stared at his empty bowl, crafting a careful reply that wouldn't upset either teenager.

Aang could hear the glassy clinking of Jinju's marbles, a breeze rustling the grasses, the bison snorting and splashing, Kripi fidgeting beside him, someone humming, someone coughing, birds, insects, and still there were not enough noises to fill the sudden void.

Maybe she, too, felt the animosity that hung over her little head like a crackling storm cloud, or maybe it was a lucky coincidence, but Lila chose this time to belch loudly.

"Damn it," Yuka cursed as he pulled the baby away from his shoulder, milky vomit dripping from her smiling lips, the rest creeping down his back. Tired of babysitting, he left to find the child's mother followed, moments later, by Gul.

--

The rest of the day passed by entirely too fast for Aang, who was having more fun than he'd had since they left the Southern Air Temple. They played tag in the trees, where he found a long red and gray feather; he gave it to Kripi so she'd stop bothering him, but it didn't work. They went swimming in the pond between the bison lounging there, thick fur coats no good in the Fire Nation's warm climate.

Aang helped with dinner, and while waiting for it to cook Tatapi let them lay their hands on her stomach and feel the baby kick. They sat completely still for a long minute, Tatapi's dress a patchwork of young hands, one with an arrow, until Aang pulled his back, surprised by the sudden movement under his palm. Instantly all the hands shifted over towards his abandoned spot.

"Four bison," Tatapi mused. "What do you think that means? Boy or girl?"

Aang thought this over for a moment, then answered, "Probably twins."

"That's the last time I ask you anything!" Tatapi laughed and shoved him playfully.

Later that night, as they stared at the stars with all the sleeping mats surrounding them in a circle, Jinju and Aang retold their story. It must have been the twentieth new version. They spoke in excited whispers—Tatapi, in her tent with the youngest children, would be furious if they woke her up again.

"So, there we were, surrounded by bloodthirsty cannibals in front and a sheer drop into the frigid ocean behind us. They had these spears made of human bones, and knives made of sharpened human teeth, and every one was pointed right at us." Aang jabbed an imaginary spear at the sky.

"That's when we saw the pirate ship!" Jinju shouted, and they shushed him quickly, biting their lips to keep from laughing too loud.

No one believed a word of it, but that didn't stop them from enjoying the ride. Aang lay among them, counting stars, hypnotized by the sound of his own voice and Jinju's, and he kept talking, kept the story alive like a lullaby that lulled everyone to sleep.


	10. Chapter 10

**Aang the Brave**

_**Chapter Ten**_

_Sozin's strategy was brilliant. Sadly, even today, there is no denying that fact. The Fire Lord barely had to lift a finger until the final assault. He, like so many others, relied on the Nomads' innate kindness as momentum for his plan. The Airbenders fought back, betraying their beliefs and killing the men who were killing them. They fought knowing defeat was certain._

_After the Fire Nation's first major victory, the siege of the Kwita Seaport, and subsequent takeover of ports along the east coast of the Earth Kingdom, isolated battles and skirmishes took on the dark shape of war. Worldwide, this news captured the minds and lips of people almost instantly, thanks, in a large way, to the Nomads who carried and dropped it like seeds on the wind. As Sozin's troops barraged the shores of the Earth Kingdom and the fleets of the Water Tribes, the Nomads felt themselves apart from the fighting, segregated from this world at war. But they didn't lull themselves into thinking they were safe. _Stay out of the Fire Nation,_ they warned their brothers, _if you value your life.

_Realizing that there was no safe place for their people, the monks made the decision to open the Air Temples as havens. Nomad families from all over the world flocked to the temples. The hills were blanketed white with giant herds of bison as the stables overflowed. Hallways and courtyards were cramped with hundreds of families. Pupils complained as they were crowded six and seven to a room while strangers slept in their beds. _

_Sozin's army of Firebenders, collected and trained for years before the war and now strengthened by the comet's passing, was inexhaustible, endless. They attacked the Air Temples simultaneously so that no warnings could be sent. But the Fire Lord sent a warning to the world._ You see what I've done to them. I can do it to you. I will.

_Those few who escaped the massacre fled to the Earth Kingdom, abandoned their bison, and shed their robes. The Airbenders, fearing discovery, refused to bend. Any who were later born were forbidden to use their talents, and soon none were born at all. The spirit was gone. _

_The last bison died, the walls of the temples crumbled, the bones of the uncountable dead dissolved into dust. The last Air Nomad drowned in garments of green, and melded with the people of the Earth Kingdom until he became one of them. _

--

Aang loved the Fire Nation. He loved waking up with the humid dawn covering him like a thick quilt. He loved the smell of the land, from the mind-numbing aroma of the cities to the crisp mountains. He loved the animals—every kind of scaly skinned lizard you could imagine, birds of every color. He loved the people; he thought of all the friends he'd made here, and watching Firebenders perform when he visited Kuzon.

When he woke up to Tatapi's yelling ("Rise and shine! Everybody up! Let's move it, people") and kids complaining ("The _sun's_ not even up yet, Mom!"), he knew there was nowhere in the the world he'd rather be at that moment...Besides the Northern Air Temple.

They breakfasted on fresh fruit, just enough to wake them up and energize them for the tasks of cleaning up camp, repacking saddles and re-saddling bison. Despite the excitement around him, Aang found himself moving sluggishly. He should have been used to waking so early—he did it every day at the Air Temple. But they were so far away from the rules of the temple now, and if he didn't _have_ to wake up at the crack of dawn for meditation and chores, why shouldn't he sleep in when he had the chance? Now he was paying for that lax attitude as his body and mind refused to cooperate.

Near the pond, Li and Gul sat deep in meditation, as still as carved statues in the early morning shadows, stirring only when Tatapi started yelling. Yuka called Li uptight, and, Aang had to admit, Li _was_ uptight, but he could understand. Li had to focus for his evaluations—even on vacation. Aang remembered when he was preparing for his own evaluations and the anxious tingle that blossomed in his stomach every time he thought about them. Even if Li said he wasn't nervous, Aang knew he would be soon enough.

When the preparations were nearly complete Aang saw Gul pull Yuka aside, and they walked a short distance from the bustle of camp. He tried to watch them without being obvious. He couldn't hear their exchange, but Gul made candid gestures—pointing to Yuka, to the lambent sky, resting a gentle hand on his shoulder. Yuka, for his part, listened with an expression that was part _I've-heard-this-lecture-before _and part _I-suppose-you-have-a-point. _Finally, reaching some sort of agreement, they bowed and walked back to the camp.

Goodbyes, for Air Nomads, take ages since there was no telling if or when they'd see each other again. For almost twenty minutes Tatapi tried to force upon them supplies that she couldn't spare. Over and over they refused, insisted that all their needs would be provided for by the land, but the woman was convincing. Only after they agreed to take some vegetables and fruits and rice and a blanket and an old compass and four pairs of underwear and promised to bathe every day and wash their clothes because, "You're representing our temple, so you have to be clean," was she satisfied.

Next came the rounds of bows and hugs and kisses. "Come over here! Don't you know you're never too old to kiss your mother?" Tatapi reminded Yuka and Li as she plastered big kisses to their faces. Aang had to swear to stop by Haijan Valley after the tournament and relate every detail before Kripa would let him go. When Appa, too, had bid farewell to his new friends, the four Airbenders resumed their familiar places, Aang proudly taking the reins. Once her family was settled on their bison, Tatapi called roll. Laughing, Aang yelled "Present!" when she got to his name. Then, with all accounted for, Gul "yip-yipped" and his bison rose into the sky, the other three following without hesitation.

--

Some people claimed that in the Fire Nation there was only one season—an endless, cruel, and untamed summer. But Aang knew better. The people who said that, he was certain, had never _really_ seen the Fire Nation. Had never seen the tiny islands that spotted the sea, carved entirely of black volcanic stone, or the tropical islands, ringed with coral reefs and turquoise water. Had never seen the dry desert plains speckled with lonely komodo rhino. Had never breathed the brisk mountain air, never seen the peaks taller than any in the Petola Mountains he knew so well. Had never heard vicious downpours shatter the surface of lakes and pummel the land, or felt the balm of rain forests fed by the spray of colossal waterfalls. Certainly they had never watched the sun rise over the Sukutai Mountains. Aang, quietly entranced by the display, reaffirmed his belief that nothing could compare to a sunrise in the Fire Nation.

--

About an hour after sunrise, Gul signaled that they were close to the place where they would separate. Aang hugged himself as they darted through the cool valleys, snowcapped mountaintops looming above them.

Gul gestured to a slope, and they turned to look, squinting against the bright reflection. Li spotted it first, and he guided their gaze to the trickle of melting snow that was the beginning of the Meiba River. The shimmering line inched downhill, joining with other headwaters as it carved a green niche into the mountain.

Aang tugged the reins, and slowly, with a moan of reluctance, Appa pulled himself away from the little herd. As they dipped into the valley to follow the path of the fledgling river, they waved, their goodbyes echoing off the rocky walls. "Blow a kiss to your girlfriend, Aang," Yuka teased, and he dropped his hand quickly, throwing the teenager a staunch glare. As he watched the family and bison shrink away, he was reminded of the sensation he felt when leaving the temple at the beginning of their journey—the feeling of leaving home.

They flew close to the ground, keeping careful eyes on the stream as it vaulted over crags, sluiced in and out of crevices, and hid beneath brambles and trees, to emerge only when they were certain they had strayed off course. They followed like children playing a game of tag. The Meiba grew by imperceptible degrees, and by afternoon the little creek had been swallowed up by white rapids.

Li and Yuka said no more to each other than the necessary one-syllable commands—"Move." "Stop." "Hey!" Their argument from the previous afternoon had struck a deep nerve in both teenagers. Yuka spoke to his two younger companions long enough to tease them; Li spoke to them long enough to boss them around. So Jinju, his newly won marbles a confident weight in his pockets, joined Aang on Appa's head, and they spent their time admiring the colorful globes and having contests to see who could make the most spin in the air at once. Aang won with five.

Cities and towns bloomed like gardens along the river, some nuzzling the shore, others boldly straddling the river with sturdy bridges, and they stopped in one of these at lunchtime. As luck would have it, they met a restaurant owner who was so delighted to see the Airbenders that he offered them free meals once the lunch rush was over. They dined on spicy lentil soup, a tangy fruit drink and, for dessert, fried bananas and mangoes smothered in cream. The attendants hovered over them, refilling their dishes before they were even half empty, so that Aang never saw the bottom of his bowl. They repaid the man with a dizzying show of twirling marbles before they took their leave. They were all full to bursting and Aang gladly relinquished the reins to Yuka, stretched out on the saddle, and slept.

--

Clothing hastily discarded, Aang floated like a pale leaf in a gigantic puddle. With his ears underwater, the only thing he could hear was the bubbly churning of the Meiba River as it cascaded over the slick gray and green cliff. Rock eagles rested on the gorge's walls, their immense wings spread to catch the last of the sun's rays. They peered with enduring eyes at the four Airbenders and the bison invading their pool, curious rather than indignant now that the boys had ceased their raucous play. Wavering in the water's effervescent shadow, undaunted little saplings clung to the ledges. Aang closed his eyes and savored the sensation of the waning sun on his belly and the cool current underneath him. It was the ideal place to stop for the evening.

He pulled on his pants and built a small fire when the sun set, and roasted some of Tatapi's vegetables for dinner. Technically, it wasn't his turn to cook because the last time they had camped, back on the cannibal island—was that really only four nights ago?—he had gone out to find the (stupid!) melons they ate. He was doing them a favor. But it was obvious that no one else was going to volunteer. When Aang finally dragged himself away from the relaxing pool, his fingers and toes pruney, Yuka was stretched out on a flat rock with his feet dangling in the water, sleeping or pretending to; Li had taken the opportunity to meditate by the waterfall; and Jinju was on his stomach, tediously arranging his marbles in rows on the sand. "By color," he informed Aang.

As he cubed zucchini, eggplant, and onions with knifelike slices of air—a trick he'd learned from Monk Gyatso—Aang forced himself not to daydream. He had to plan, he had to think. With early starts and steady flying, they could probably be out of the Fire Nation in a couple of days. Then the Air Temple would be just a hop, skip, and a jump over the Northern Sea. They could make up the time.

Aang found two big leaves, shook the bugs off, and carefully wrapped his vegetables inside. He'd seen the cooks do this once when he was on kitchen duty. It turned out to be a lot harder than he'd thought, and it took three tries before he could fold one that didn't tear. He used two sticks to maneuver the packets into the fire...and then watched as it burned to ashes in the flames. He groaned, although happy that no one was around to see his slip-up, and tried to hide the ruined food beneath some charred twigs.

He cut up some more vegetables, wrapped them up, then added a layer of sticky river mud before setting them in the fire. Once the mud had dried he removed the packets, cracked the hard shell with a rock, and uncovered his banquet, careful not to burn his fingers. It would have been even better if he had some herbs for spice, like the ones Gyatso grew in little clay pots on his windowsill, but he didn't want to risk accidentally picking something poisonous and killing everyone. The food still smelled fantastic, and it looked good, too. He didn't want to brag, but he _was_ an excellent cook, once he got the hang of it. Aang was tempted to eat the meal by himself, but the others soon wandered over, and he had to forgo manners and grab what he could before it was gone.

By the time they finished dinner it was dark, and Aang decided to go to sleep early. That way maybe he would be able to get a head start in the morning. As an added bonus, by being the first to retire, he got dibs on the blanket. He asked Li to wake him when he got up to meditate, said goodnight to Appa and Jinju, and spread the blanket out a good distance from the fire so that the heat wasn't oppressive. He wondered if he should put his shirt back on, then decided that it was worth it not to wake up covered in mosquito bites, even if it was hot.

Instead, he woke in the middle of the night covered in sweat. His shirt was damp and stuck uncomfortably to his skin. Aang sat up and pulled it over his head and looked around, squinting into the night. He could see the lumpy forms of his sleeping companions around the embers of the campfire, and Appa as a giant lump of shadows a short distance away. He stood and tiptoed to a corner of the pool near the waterfall, where a group of big rocks were arranged like a miniature sitting room. Slowly, so he wouldn't slip into the dark pool, Aang crawled onto one and splashed water onto his face and over his arms. He cupped his hands and brought the cool water to his mouth, taking a long drink.

"Careful, Aang. We don't want you pissing yourself again."

Aang jumped, spat out the water, and nearly collapsed into the river. He scrambled on his slippery seat in order not to fall off. When he had calmed just enough to think straight, Aang searched the darkness until he saw Yuka, lounging with is legs propped up on a rock just a few feet away. He could just make out the amused expression on his face.

"Are you done?" Yuka quipped.

"How long have you been there?" Aang gasped, feeling his still frantic heartbeat.

"About half an hour."

Aang sighed and ran a hand over his head. "For the last time: it was the melon," he muttered. It was useless, he knew, but he felt that he should at least attempt to defend his dignity.

"Of course. My mistake."

"What are you doing over here anyway?" he asked.

"Counting fireflies and shooting stars. What the hell does it look like?"

Aang rolled his eyes and huffed. "Why do I even bother being nice to you?" he lamented.

"You say that like you're doing me a favor."

"Well," he started, but couldn't think of a good comeback, so he decided to take a chance and change the topic.

"Hey Yuka." The teenager grunted his acknowledgment. "You and Li sure got mad at each other yesterday."

"This is news?"

"I think..." he began cautiously, " I think Li might be right."

Yuka shrugged. "Remind me, Aang. Do I give a gopher-rat's ass what you think?"

Aang ignored him and pressed on, wondering in the back of his mind if this was wise. He kept an eye on the other boy in case he got violent. Dealing with Yuka was like trying to ride a hog monkey; you always had to be on your guard because there was no telling when it might go berserk, and then you'd better be ready to run like crazy.

"I mean, I don't think the Air Temple's so bad. Sure, it might get hard sometimes, always working, but then we get breaks like this. And we learn a lot there. You can't learn Airbending anywhere else. It's like...it's our culture. You know?" He glanced at Yuka from the corner of his eye.

"_It's our culture, you know_?" he mocked in a whiney voice. "You sound just like lemur head. And Gul. I thought he got it. I mean..." He leaned his head back and stretched his arms out. "You're just a kid. What do you know?"

"More than you, I bet," Aang said, recklessly.

"You don't know that you're just part of a joke. A huge joke."

"What are you talking about? You said that before." For a long time Yuka didn't answer. The steady crash of the waterfall blocked out the other sounds of the forest. It was calming, and even though he tried to stay alert Aang found himself relaxing a little. Beside the cascade, the breeze was chill and flecked with mist.

"Gul gave me all this talk about how you have to show respect, you have to take this seriously, you have to make a decision, da da da... He would've stayed at the Air Temple, donned the robes, all that. He wanted to. But, he said, he couldn't stand being away from his family. That's the _only _reason he left. That's what Tatapi said, you remember?" Aang nodded, patiently waiting for Yuka to make his point. Why did he always have to go off on weird tangents?

"Well, it got me thinking. I don't know my family. You don't either, right?" Aang shook his head, then he changed his mind and nodded, and then just said, "Right."

"If you did, do you think you might want to leave the temple and go back to them? Like Gul? I mean when you're old enough to."

"I don't know. I guess," he answered, not because it was true, but because he figured that was the answer Yuka wanted, and he wanted to keep Yuka talking.

"So..." Yuka watched him, waiting for Aang to come to his own conclusion. But he was still confused.

"So...?" he shrugged.

"So why do you think we come to the temple as babies?" he added, impatience clear in his voice.

Aang thought for a moment. Gul, babies, Air Temple...What was Yuka getting at? "You think they do that so we won't want to leave the temple and go back to our families?" he guessed.

"Exactly."

Aang frowned, mulling over the idea. Maybe...it _could_ make sense. But it just didn't seem right. He shook his head to clear it. "I don't think so. That's not true."

Yuka tapped his temple with a finger. "Just think about it." Thinking about it just confirmed to Aang that Yuka was nuts. Imagine, monks tricking people into giving them their babies, just so they could have more monks at the temples. But it wasn't a trick, it was a tradition that had been held for hundreds of years. It wasn't...something _bad_. Aang wished he hadn't talked to Yuka at all now. However silly, the thought made him uncomfortable, and now it was stuck in the back of his mind.

"Is that the joke?" he asked.

"That's just part of it," Yuka answered. "If I explained the joke it wouldn't be funny anymore. If you don't get, you just don't get it. If you don't get it, you're part of it."

Aang bit back a frustrated yell. Talking to Yuka was exhausting. He just wanted to go back to bed. He turned and cautiously crawled back over the rocks. "Li says you're a bad influence. I think he's right," he called over his shoulder.

Yuka laughed. "He is! Two-faced son of a bitch. Hey, wait a second, I'm not done." Aang stopped and faced Yuka again, annoyed. He sure was in a talkative mood tonight.

"If you're just going to call him names, maybe you can wait until tomorrow when he's awake."

He laughed again. "He acts so pious and righteous all the time, right? Like he's above everyone else. You know what I mean."

"I'm serious, Yuka. I really want to go back to sleep!"

"Shut up for a second. I'm gonna tell you something." He lowered his voice to a conspirative hush, and Aang couldn't help but listen. "It's just an act. You know how jealous he is of you, right?"

"What!" Aang was taken aback. "That's stupid, you're lying!" Why would Li be jealous of him? He was just a kid.

"You're kidding me. Come on, you never noticed?" Yuka grinned evilly and wagged a finger at Aang. "See, it's the joke. He's part of it."

He squinted back at Yuka, wishing he could see inside his head and figure him out. Once Aang had watched one of the bison at the Air Temple giving birth, and it was repelling and fascinating all at the same time. Yuka, he decided, was kind of like that.

"Goodnight," he said finally, and walked away before Yuka could call him back.

He flopped down onto the blanket and closed his eyes. Li would wake him up early tomorrow, so he had to get to sleep. As his breathing slowed and evened out, he let his mind wander to the tournament which would be starting in just a few days. He imagined what it was like at the Northern Air Temple right now. People would be arriving in droves, families like Tatapi's, and his friends from the Southern Air Temple who had left before him. The pupils and monks of the Northern Temple would be busy setting up tents and opening stables and cooking lots of food. Aang imagined himself there, talking to friends he hadn't seen all year, meeting new ones, flying Appa around the temple to prepare him for the races. And somewhere among the crowd, hiding in a dark hallway or corner, someone was laughing, delighted by a joke Aang couldn't understand.


End file.
